


True Colors

by Wilusa



Category: The Village (2004)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilusa/pseuds/Wilusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to the film, in which Lucius and Ivy make sobering discoveries. This story makes plot use of a detail I established in my short fic "Extrascentsory Perception," but it can be read as a standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Village and its canon characters are the property of M. Night Shyamalan; no copyright infringement is intended.

_The bad color, red, symbolizes bloodshed and violence._

 _The new color, or as Ivy calls it, the holy color - my color, violet - is at the opposite end of the spectrum._

 _Why is the one we were taught was the "safe" color, yellow or gold, so near the wicked red?_

....................................................................................................................................................................................

Lucius Hunt felt all eyes on him as he walked through the village.

Everyone he approached spotted him at a distance, stopped what he or she was doing, and turned to stare. They bowed reverently as he passed. By now he knew without looking that they'd gaze after him till he was out of sight. Some of the children trotted along in his wake.

Every villager wore an article of clothing in the new, holy color.

But when Lucius looked into those keen eyes, he found them confused and troubled. Doubtless mirroring his own.

Word of the Miracle of the Violet-Scented Blood had spread through the village while he lay at death's door. The community had a library of pious books; the villagers soon learned that violet-scented blood was associated with stigmata and other miraculous bleeding. When Ivy revealed that she "saw" Lucius's personal color as violet, and considered it holy because of its location in the spectrum, he was well on his way to becoming a Messiah-figure.

 _The villagers see Ivy as a heroine because she risked her life to save mine_ , he reflected. _But they're disturbed because she also risked the safety of the community, without consulting or even warning them._

 _They see me as a living saint. But some believe the "saint" was meant to be sacrificed - that I should have been allowed to die, as Jesus did, for the good of all._

 _And now they're distressed and fearful because they see Ivy and I are no longer together, and they have no idea why._

He wasn't sure which of them had broken the engagement. Perhaps they had simply realized, mutually and at the same moment, that the gulf that had opened between them made marriage impossible. He had walked away, and she had let him go.

There was no anger - certainly not on his side, and not, he believed, on hers. Only sorrow, as they both held fast to views they believed were right.

Ivy had said, "I wish to tell you a secret, Lucius. Something critically important. I feel I must share this knowledge with you! But I can't do so unless you promise, before hearing it, never to tell anyone else without my consent."

Lucius had been unable to promise that. Not in advance, not without knowing what it might entail.

"Ivy," he'd asked gently, "is the secret...personal? Did that creature you killed in the woods...violate you? If that's it, of course I won't tell -"

"No, no!" She was so obviously stunned that he realized the possibility of rape had never entered her mind. "Now that you suggest it," she continued thoughtfully, "I did sense he was male, and I can't be sure whether he wanted to kill me or, as you say, violate me. But nothing of the sort happened."

Then he'd tried to explain that with any other kind of important secret, he couldn't promise not to be guided by his own conscience. "I think you should respect me enough to accept that," he argued. "I may agree with you that no one else should be told. I may feel I need to tell my mother. Or, depending on what the secret is, I may think still more people have a right to know."

"Would it help if I told you that -"

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Please, I need you to promise!"

He'd had a sick feeling that she'd been about to say _your mother already knows_. But unpleasant as that thought was, he couldn't let it sway him.

Ivy seemingly believed that if he respected _her_ , he'd accede blindly to her judgment. But he felt no lover should demand that. He was convinced that if their roles were reversed, he wouldn't ask it of her.

So he had walked away, and she had let him go.

He couldn't be comfortable at home now. _Is my mother hiding something? Or am I only imagining it?_ But he wasn't at ease tramping through the countryside, either - not with a half-dozen silent children trailing behind.

 _There's one sure way to lose them._

He'd led his unwanted followers to the schoolhouse, and now, with a smile and a tip of his cap to them, he went into the Quiet Room.

 __


	2. Chapter 2

The Quiet Room adjacent to the schoolhouse was seldom locked. It was used primarily to punish naughty children by confining them for an hour or so. They were never locked in; an honor system had always sufficed. At other times, the room was available for any adult who sought a private place to meditate without the religious associations of the village chapel (where the elders rotated as lay preachers, offering a bland Christian service every Sunday). The door's being closed meant the room was in use.

 _Noah was locked in, though_ , Lucius thought as he closed the door, and settled himself in the least uncomfortable chair. It chilled him to think of Noah Percy's fate; months had passed, and this was his first visit to the room where his assailant had been held.

 _He was locked in - everyone agrees on that. I'm not clear as to how he escaped._

Crime was so new to the village that its residents would have been hard-pressed to decide how to try - or punish - Noah for his attack on Lucius. But Lucius knew he would have recommended mercy. _Noah was never normal mentally. He was lucid enough to bear some responsibility for what he did, but the terror he endured afterward was punishment enough._

He wished fervently that Noah were still alive.

Sighing, he quieted his mind and began trying, for the hundredth time, to make sense of what had happened after he was wounded.

As he'd heard the story, Ivy had asked her father's permission to go to the nearest town and seek a cure for the infection that threatened to claim Lucius's life. After all these years, Edward Walker had revealed that a villager would be allowed safe passage through the forest if he or she carried a pouch of magic rocks.

 _"Magic rocks"?_

 _If I can accept blood smelling like violets, why do I have a problem with magic rocks?_

 _No, I'm not being unreasonable. There is a difference. The phenomenon of mystics' shedding violet-scented blood has been reported for centuries. Those "magic rocks" sound like something out of a fairy tale for children._

Walker had sent his daughter on her mission with two male escorts. They were to guide her through the forest - to set and keep to a safe course, and to prevent the blind Ivy's running afoul of hazards like ditches. But then they were to wait, holding the "magic rocks" for protection against the forest creatures, while she alone went on to the town.

 _Why? Is that town so evil that Mr. Walker believed only his strong-willed daughter would be able to resist its temptations?_

 _Or...did he want only a blind person to visit the world beyond the forest, because he feared what others might **see?**_

Ivy's escorts had panicked and left her, while much of the forest lay ahead. They'd returned to the village separately, not having even each other for protection. But despite their not having the "magic rocks," they had not been attacked. Ivy, _with_ the rocks, _had_ been attacked.

After she'd killed one of the forest creatures in self-defense, no others had molested her. She'd been outside the forest for some time, waiting for a helpful man named Kevin to bring medicine; the creatures must have found the slain one's body. Yet they'd allowed Ivy to return to the village, and retaliated by killing a presumably fleeing Noah.

 _Again, why? If they were reluctant to harm a woman, or a blind person, Ivy wouldn't have been attacked in the first place._

The seeming illogic of the creatures' behavior - and Edward Walker's - made Lucius's head ache. He regretted that Ivy hadn't visited a town and been able to report her impressions. "Kevin" - a name he'd never heard before, but a normal man, whose speech she'd said was not unlike theirs - had left her to wait where he'd found her till he returned with the medicine.

 _How did she get home safely? It's surprising that she'd made it to the end of the woods after her sighted companions deserted her. She was surely at risk of losing her way on the return trip. She could have wandered in those woods till she died of exposure!_

 _I turn these questions over and over in my mind and get nowhere. Perhaps I should focus on something else. How did Noah escape?_

He went over to the door and examined the lock. It wasn't broken, and he saw nothing to indicate it had ever been repaired or replaced. Nor did the door show signs of damage. He'd been told the windows had been shuttered and the shutters bolted when no guard was on duty; he had no reason to doubt that. Now he stepped outside, and verified that the shutters and their bolts were intact. Aside from being freshly painted, as it was every spring, the structure looked exactly as it had when he was a child.

He went back in, and at that point, lit a small oil lamp. Days were still short in April. But despite the deepening shadows, he was in no haste to leave.

He looked around, puzzling over Noah. _Did he overpower someone who brought him food? After what he'd done to me, they had to know he might be irrational. How could anyone have been caught off guard?_

 _Is there a cellar? What if there is? It would be harder to escape from that than from the above-ground level. But I should consider all possibilities._

He pulled up the rug...and was about to drop it again when he saw the barely discernible outlines of what appeared to be not one, but several trapdoors.

A quick check revealed that all but one were merely loose sections of floorboard that could easily be lifted. _It looks as if these cavities were used for storage. Storage of what?_

The one actual trapdoor opened to reveal a very ordinary flight of stairs. _There can't be another way out of that cellar! A window near the ceiling would be visible from outside._ But Lucius had resolved to leave no nook or cranny unexplored. So he took up the lamp, and began his descent into the depths.


	3. Chapter 3

Alice Hunt paced the floor of her cheerless farmhouse, hoping the son who was overdue for dinner would remember to eat somewhere else. She understood why he was troubled; Ivy had told her the reason for the young couple's breakup.

 _This web of lies is unfair to everyone_ , Alice thought bitterly. _Ivy has lost Lucius, and I seem to be losing him too._

_If Edward had told Ivy the whole truth, **I'd** tell Lucius at this point. His learning it from someone other than Ivy might even make it possible for the two of them to reconcile._

_But Edward is determined to keep Ivy believing that after all our years of hoaxing, the old legend of "creatures in the woods" was proven true when one of them attacked her. That she killed a "creature," and its kin killed Noah. I can't tell my son that! Admit I've been deceiving him all his life, beg his forgiveness, and then immediately lie to him **again?** Unthinkable!_

She hadn't anticipated this dilemma when she agreed that the elders should continue keeping their secret. She wondered now, guiltily, to what extent her agreement had been influenced by romantic fantasies about the married Edward.

_Is he as admirable a man as I've always believed?_

_Is this latest lie meant, as he claims, to protect his daughter - or to protect **himself?**_

.

.

Ivy Walker sat alone in her room, ignoring the tray her mother had brought her when she declined to join the family at the table.

For the first few days after Ivy's trek through the forest, Lucius's life had hung in the balance. Then he'd had a long recuperation, made more difficult by a harsh winter. Ivy had been too distracted to dwell on the details of her own experience. But now that Lucius was well - and lost to her, perhaps forever - she had time to spare.

_There are things that don't make sense._

_It's tempting to think that even though the elders were staging hoaxes for decades, a creature's having attacked me proves they exist, so **nothing has really changed**. But is that true?_

_For all those years, the elders were play-acting, sometimes noisily, on the fringe of the forest. Noah, who lived near it, may have been wandering back and forth at will. More recently, Lucius ventured in as a test._

_And the creatures never attempted contact - never did **anything** to give us a hint that they existed, let alone that they objected to our entering those woods!_

_So why, now, did they suddenly attack me? And then Noah, of all people - the one they'd probably tolerated many times?_

_Was this an aberration? Was one of them - no, there must have been at least two - as deranged as poor Noah?_

_Should we be trying to communicate with them, to reach the kind of understanding our lying elders told us had been reached long ago?_

_Oh, how I wish I could discuss all this with Lucius!_

She knew Lucius believed the promise she'd tried to exact from him had been her own idea. But the truth was that she understood and respected his position. She herself had been bound by a promise made to her father.

Now she let her thoughts stray in a direction they hadn't gone before.

_When Lucius was a boy, the color I sensed from him was blue. I admired it, because blue is said to symbolize loyalty. But as he matured into the man he is now, it changed to something else: violet. I believe that was an improvement, because his color was moving away from the "bad" one in the spectrum, and violet is the farthest from it of all._

_Do I have a color? If so, there's no one who can tell me what it is..._

_Lucius refused to promise, in advance, to keep a secret I wanted to share with him. Was it the holy color that guided him to take that stand? To reject the old ideal of unquestioning loyalty to clan and loved ones, and insist, instead, on the supremacy of a person's own conscience?_

_Is it possible my color has always been blue...and now, it's starting to shift into violet?_


	4. Chapter 4

At the foot of the stairs, Lucius knelt to look at the _things_ he'd seen scattered on the dirt floor.

He couldn't bring himself to touch them.

 _ **Quills**_.

 _Only four of them, but they look just like the ones I saw on the back of that creature at the base of the watchtower._

 _I was so shocked at the time that I imagined they were sprouting from its back. But they couldn't have been. It was wearing a cloak of the bad color. So the quills must have been sewn into the cloak, as a kind of armor._

 _How could some of them have been shed **here?**_

He realized with a shudder that if there'd been a little more natural light, and he hadn't brought the lamp with him, he might have missed seeing them altogether.

A few more cautious steps brought him to the entrance of what was clearly a tunnel. Rough-hewn, but to all appearances human-made.

 _It can't be..._

The schoolhouse wasn't far from the border. He tried to tell himself the forest creatures must have tunneled in, reaching the cellar either by accident or by design.

 _But this isn't the main cellar of the schoolhouse, doesn't even have a door leading into it. It's a tiny room that seems to have no purpose other than access to the tunnel!_

He went back to take a closer look at the stairs. _Ordinary human construction._

The same was true of the trapdoor. And it had no locking mechanism; that seemed to indicate a complete lack of concern about its being breached.

Lucius was so stunned that he had to sit on the steps for a few minutes to compose his thoughts.

 _One more test, to make sure whose trapdoor this is._

He left the lamp on the stairs while he experimented with door and rug. He quickly ascertained that it was possible to descend through the trapdoor and, while closing it, drop the concealing rug into place. The rug was light enough to permit easy reopening of the door from below.

His palms were sweating; he wiped them on his trousers. _Don't jump to conclusions_ , he told himself _. I've just been assuming the tunnel leads into the woods._

 _But where else could it lead? Especially when there are quills here that could only have come from a garment worn by a forest creature? Or by..._

 _Face it. Face the alternative._

 _ **By a villager masquerading as a forest creature**_.

There was one way to find out. Grimly, he followed the tunnel to its end.

.

.

He emerged from another trapdoor and found himself in the woods. Not far beyond the border, but definitely in the woods. The hour was later than he'd realized: the lights marking the village's perimeter already blazed atop their poles.

 _Last night I was one of those earnest young lamplighters._ He'd insisted on resuming all normal, rotating duties as soon as he was strong enough, despite others' belief that he'd become "special." _All that effort put into protecting the village...and now I'm starting to wonder if there's anything to protect it **from**._

Another rebellious thought surfaced in his mind. _I'm a grown man, considered old enough to marry and start a family. How is it I've never asked why my generation is allowed to light the torches, paint the border posts, stand guard in the watchtower - but not to participate in decisionmaking with the elders?_

 _First things first. I need to understand what's going on here._

Thankful that the lamplighters had departed and his own lamp wouldn't attract attention, he took a close look at the trapdoor he'd exited. This one too was human-made. The wood and nails were no different from those he used in his amateur carpentry. And clearly, no attempt had been made to conceal it.

 _If Noah escaped, it was through this tunnel, directly into the forest._

 _Is it possible that a forest creature pursued him, he tried to return to the village by the way he'd left, and the monster followed and killed him at the foot of the cellar stairs? Or even that he never escaped at all, and it came through the tunnel and killed him in the Quiet Room?_

He pondered those explanations, and rejected them. If there had been carnage at the village end of the tunnel, the cleanup wouldn't have left quills lying about as evidence. One might have been overlooked, but not as many as four.

 _So what I'll think of as a "creature costume" was, at some point, near those stairs. Perhaps it was normally stored under the floorboards. But nothing of the sort is there now. Which suggests that when Noah escaped, he was... **wearing it**..._

The implication was so horrific that Lucius had to sit down.

At last he got shakily to his feet, and began a slow walk through the woods around the perimeter of the village. The forest itself could be trusted to conceal his small light, at ground level, from the guard in the tower.

Even by lamplight, he found three more tunnel entrances. No attempt had been made to camouflage them.

 _Near the border or not, these aren't the work of people who genuinely fear intruders._

He guessed the tunnels led to the closest houses - one being the Percys'. And then he sagged against a tree trunk as another realization hit him: Noah might have made his first foray into the woods from his own cellar!


	5. Chapter 5

Lucius rose before daybreak, bathed and dressed as swiftly and silently as he could, and snatched a few mouthfuls of food. He hoped he'd be out of the house before his mother woke, so he wouldn't have to face questions about the missed dinner or the appallingly late hour he'd gotten home.

He was opening the door when she called, "Lucius!"

Sighing, he turned back. "Yes, Mother?"

Alice was standing at the foot of the stairs, fully clothed - in the same dress he remembered her wearing the previous day. _She...never went to bed? Because she was worried about me?_ The circles under her eyes seemed to support that interpretation.

But she smiled, and said only, "I think you need your jacket." She held it out to him.

He came back, took the jacket, and then impulsively pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her on the forehead and blurted out, "I love you, Mother!"

She clung to him briefly, whispering, "I love you too." Then she let him go.

As they parted, he thought he saw tears in her eyes. He also felt smarting in his own.

.

.

Ungodly hour though it was, he headed for the Walker house at a dead run. He meant to sit on the porch till Ivy emerged.

But while the house was still far away, he saw another runner coming toward him. Cane extended before her, auburn hair flying in the wind. "Lucius!" she cried out. She'd seen his color again.

"Ivy!"

They closed the space between them until the cane bumped his thigh; then they both came to a stumbling halt, and Ivy wound up in his arms.

"Lucius!" she panted. "I'll tell you the secret! No promise required. But -" She had to pause to catch her breath. With him equally winded, she still managed to deliver the next line: "I want you to know I'm not 'giving in.' Not going against my beliefs. I've decided you were right all along."

"Wait, Ivy! You don't have to tell me." He brushed his lips against her hair, then said gently, "I was on my way to tell you I've discovered the truth on my own. I know you killed Noah -"

She stiffened. "I... ** _what?_** " She jerked away from him, and he saw that she'd gone deathly pale. "Lucius, wh-what are you saying?" She took a few steps backward, trembling.

"Oh, my God. Ivy, I thought you knew!"

She covered her face with her hands and let out a muffled shriek. Lucius caught her as she was about to crumple to the ground.

.

.

An hour later they sat side by side on the Resting Rock, grappling with the new reality. It went without saying that they were as much in love as ever, and still hoped to marry and spend the rest of their lives together. But in all other respects, their world had been turned upside down.

"I know you had to be told about Noah," Lucius said contritely, "but I should have done it in a better way. It seems I'm always slow to speak - except when I shouldn't."

Ivy sighed. "It's all right, Lucius." She locked her arm through his. "You had no reason to suspect that was the one thing Papa hadn't told me."

"He may have wanted to spare you -"

"No." She shook her head. "I think he may actually have been glad Noah was dead, because it gave him an excuse to keep things as they were. To convince me there would be no point in exposing the lies he'd admitted.

"I can't let myself grieve over having killed Noah, not when we have so much to discuss. This changes everything! I've been assuming the forest creatures really exist. Now we know they don't.

"We've been lied to all our lives," she continued bitterly. "This community is built on lies! All because our parents wanted to retreat from a world that had hurt them. They had no right to force that on _us!_ "

"No," Lucius agreed. He was still puzzling over details. "Ivy...I'll never forget that you volunteered to go through the woods, for my sake, _before_ your father told you the threat was a fake. But if I have this right...by the time you went, you believed it was a fake. Your companions didn't know that, and the 'magic rocks' were a device to reassure them.

"Here's what I've been wondering. You didn't really have any 'magical' protection. So how did you get home safely, when the men had deserted you and you had to go all the way through the forest alone? Weren't you in danger of losing your bearings, getting turned around?

"I understand that you were following the stream. But within our borders, at least, the flow of water in that stream makes very little sound. It seems to me that if you stayed close enough to be sure of hearing it, you'd be in constant danger of falling in."

Slowly and reluctantly, Ivy said, "I didn't have to do it alone. When I came back over the wall, Papa was waiting for me. He'd been appalled when the men returned to the village. Not only did he help me get back, he carried me part of the way." She grimaced. "He said he thought he could compromise, come that far without breaking an oath he'd taken, as long as he went no farther. But he insisted we separate so he could sneak back into the village ahead of me. Suspicions would be aroused if anyone learned he'd ventured into the woods, when I supposedly had the _only_ 'magic rocks'!"

The tightness in her voice told Lucius there was more to the story. "Wh-what do you think he would have done if you hadn't returned? Hadn't come back over the wall?"

"I know what he would have done. I asked. He didn't want to answer. But when I pressed him, he told me. He would eventually have given up and gone home."

Despite all he already knew, Lucius was stunned. "Just... _given up and gone home?_ Abandoned his own daughter, when you might be injured or dying somewhere? When he'd already gone most of the way, was just inside the wall? This is a man who knows there are no creatures in the woods, and the only threat beyond it comes from humans like ourselves!"

"You must remember," Ivy spat out, "he'd sworn an oath. Made a promise! He couldn't have faced _my_ _mother_ if he'd broken it!"

Lucius held her tight. _So that's why you've realized conscience should take precedence over promises. And you still had to battle your upbringing for weeks._

At last she pulled free and turned her face up to his. "What do you propose we do now? I imagine you've been thinking about it all night."

He hesitated. "We still don't have a good enough understanding of what we're dealing with. I want to explore those woods by daylight, perhaps even see what lies beyond - visit one of the towns. Are you willing to wait till I've done that, before you speak to anyone else?"

She was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, "Lucius, there's something I should tell you. All along, I've been thinking mostly about the forest creatures. But the world outside... _sounds_ strange."

That took him by surprise. "Sounds strange? What do you mean?"

"I can't describe it any better than that. Kevin seemed like a kind man. But there were odd noises when he came and went. He said they were made by his truck. I asked if I could touch it, and he said I probably shouldn't. I think my finding the noises odd made him uncomfortable."

Lucius frowned. "His truck?" They both understood that large vehicles called trucks - not needed in the village - were used in towns, to deliver necessities like bread and milk door-to-door. "I've never seen one except in pictures, but I can't imagine why it would make odd noises."

"It did. And at the same time, it _didn't_ make the sounds I expected. The horses never whinnied. And I never heard hoofbeats!"

Lucius was as perplexed as she. "I suppose one could discipline or muzzle or even maim a horse to keep it from whinnying. But there's no way to suppress the sound of hoofbeats. Certainly not when the horses are pulling a heavy truck..."

 _If the outer world "sounds strange," what does it look like? Was I right in suspecting Edward Walker had a reason for wanting only a blind person to go there?_

"In any case," he said, "I need to explore the forest before I go farther. I think there's something strange there too. But I haven't seen enough of it, by daylight, to be sure."

He started to get up, but Ivy clutched at his hand. "You asked if I'd wait while you do that."

"Yes?" He was puzzled. "Aren't you willing to wait?"

"Of course not," she said calmly. "I'm going with you."

 __


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm not sure what an uncultivated forest should look like," Lucius said slowly, as he gazed up into the treetops. "But I can't believe it should look like this."

"What exactly is wrong?" There was a nervous edge to Ivy's voice. "You've been awfully quiet since we got in here. Even for you."

He chuckled at the _even for you_ line, but at the same time, he tightened his grip on her hand. Despite their knowing what they did, it had taken courage for both of them to walk deep into the woods without so much as safe-color cloaks for protection.

"It's April. Back in the village, there are buds, new greenery, flowers everywhere. Here..." Turning his head to survey the bleak landscape, he shivered. "All the trees seem to be dead, dying, or stunted. The plants on the ground look just as bad. I've only spotted patches of one kind that's thriving. It may be the one that bears those bad-color berries Noah picked - they wouldn't be in season now."

Ivy sucked in an audible breath. "You walked into the woods by daylight once before," she reminded him. "Were the trees dead-looking then?"

The men who'd deserted her hadn't mentioned anything of the sort - and Lucius guessed her father hadn't, either. But that didn't mean much.

Nodding, he said, "Yes. But I only went a few yards past the border. To the extent I noticed it, I took it to be a problem in one small area. Last night I began to suspect it's not." He gave a sour smile. "The other time, of course, I was mostly concerned about nonexistent forest creatures."

"We may have been too quick to conclude they don't exist." Ivy sounded uneasy. "I've been thinking...didn't you say you'd been observed by them? We've been assuming the elders staged the scary 'creature response' -"

"I know they did," he said flatly.

"You said you'd been aware of someone, in the woods, watching you! It's hard to believe one of the elders happened to be prowling around at just that time."

"We don't have to assume a 'prowling elder' was there by chance," he pointed out. "They could have been shadowing _me_ , spying on me, because I'd asked permission to go to the towns.

"But it's also possible that all the sounds I heard were made either by branches brushing against each other in the wind, or by small animals like squirrels. That near the border, the squirrels may have been visitors like me.

"And I'd been with a group touching up the paint on our border markers. One of the others could have seen me go into the woods, and told the elders." He sighed. "At the time, I might have been just as quick to inform on a friend who'd done it."

Ivy nodded thoughtfully. "All those possibilities make sense." She'd picked up on something else. "You said the squirrels could have been visitors...I haven't heard any animal or bird sounds in here. I'm realizing now that I didn't hear them when I walked through before, either, until I was nearing the wall. I just didn't dwell on it, because I had more pressing worries.

"Have you heard animals or birds? Or seen them?"

"Nothing," he said in a strained whisper. "Not so much as an insect."

They stood very still for several minutes, listening. In his case, watching as well.

Their fingers twined more tightly together.

At last Lucius said, "I think we can be sure the forest creatures don't exist. There's a word for what I sense in here. _Emptiness_."

Ivy gave a slow nod. "I agree. It's as if, except for some unhealthy plants, we're the only living things for miles around."

"Can I...ask a favor of you, Ivy?"

"Of course." Then, a bit uncertainly, she added, "Er, what?"

He took a deep breath. _I know there are no "creatures" to molest her!_ "Where we're standing now, I can see the watchtower through the trees. Are you willing to wait here alone while I do some exploring?" Ivy opened her mouth to protest, and he explained quickly, "I don't want to risk our getting lost. We can keep calling back and forth - I won't get out of earshot. If I lose sight of the tower, I'll be able to get back here by following your voice."

"So...you aren't suggesting this because I'm blind? Because you think I can't manage rough terrain?"

"No, I swear it!" He smiled in spite of himself at that being her main concern. "I know you're a tomboy, remember? But even if you were sighted, I'd think one of us should stay here."

"All right." She pulled her hand free and stood determinedly erect, like a sentinel.

 _Trying hard not to show she's afraid._

Lucius planted a soft kiss on her head. Then he began carefully picking his way through the tangle of tree roots and blighted bushes. _No forest should be like this..._

.

.

He checked out the woods in all directions, for as far as he could safely go. When he'd finished and returned to Ivy, she laid a hand on his arm and said, "You're trembling."

"I found things I didn't particularly like," he admitted. "Normal enough, I suppose. I just have no experience with forests -"

"What did you find?"

"Animal skeletons. Scattered here and there. What may have been squirrels, rabbits - and one larger one, a fox or coyote."

Ivy needed a minute to absorb that. But when she spoke, her voice was steady. "So there are no living animals," she mused, "but we have skeletons to prove they once did live here. Why did they die?

"And what should we do now? We can go still deeper into the woods, you know, if we get to the stream bed and follow it."

If they followed the stream bed, he realized, they could make it all the way out of the woods - on the other side.

He hesitated. "I'm not sure. We've been missed by now...I've begun to wonder what your parents must be thinking. Did they know where you were going this morning?"

Ivy grinned. "Not when I left. But they do now! I tried to sneak out, but I couldn't get past Peggy." An especially inquisitive little sister. "I told her I was headed to your house, to camp on the doorstep till you came out. And I said we were almost certainly going to reconcile. Peggy was thrilled."

Then her face fell. "Of course, when Mama and Papa heard that, they must have realized I meant to tell you everything I knew - without swearing you to secrecy." Struck by another thought, she said, "I haven't asked you this. Did you leave any sign in the Quiet Room that you'd found the tunnel? An open trapdoor, a lamp missing?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, nothing. I walked around the perimeter of the village, but then I went back through the tunnel. I knew I should leave the Quiet Room as I'd found it - and also, I didn't want the guard in the tower to spot me.

"But my mother knows I was out most of the night, and I think she suspects I was in the woods. Where else could I have been? Mother knows that if you and I had reconciled, we wouldn't have been making love. Not before our wedding night."

Ivy's disgusted hiss told him what she thought of that.

Long engagements were almost unknown among village couples deemed old enough to marry. If not for Noah's attempt to kill Lucius, they would have been wed - in a gala, if hastily arranged, ceremony - two weeks after declaring their intentions. They'd thought about having a quiet wedding as soon as Lucius was on the mend. But they'd talked it over and decided, out of consideration for Noah's parents, to wait until after a six-month mourning period.

Unfortunately, that had bound them to the same rules of conduct the village imposed on lovelorn 14-year-olds.

"As long as our parents know we're together," Lucius said now, "I think we can stay in the woods without their being concerned for our safety. They'll guess where we've gone, and they won't like it. But however much they think _we_ know, _they'll_ know we aren't in danger from either 'forest creatures' or wild animals. If we're in here all night" - he hadn't brought a lantern, or any other supplies - "we can settle down in one place."

"And if we go on to a town..." Ivy pondered that, then said firmly, "No matter what happens, our families will know we weren't spirited away. We're adults who've claimed the right to think for ourselves."


	7. Chapter 7

"How about stopping for the night?" Lucius suggested. By day he'd seen enough of the sun through the denuded trees to enable him to avoid hazards; now darkness was closing in. "This seems like as good a place as any. We can decide in the morning whether to go on or turn back."

Expecting an answer, he didn't get one.

"Ivy?"

She'd slipped her hand out of his when he paused to look around. Now, while still clutching her cane, she was groping the jagged surfaces of a tree trunk with a particularly nasty outcropping of broken branches.

"Ivy?" he said again, gently. "That's just a section of a tree. Be careful you don't pick up splinters."

"Oh...thank you, Lucius. I'll be careful." She didn't let go of it, and he waited patiently. At last she took a deep breath and said, "I'm not sure whether this is the same tree or a similar one. But it makes me think of one that was...very near...where I killed Noah."

By the time she'd gotten the words out she was trembling, and Lucius realized she was in tears. _Of course. We had so many things to discuss this morning that she never gave herself time to deal with this._

He moved toward her and carefully put an arm around her. She let go of the tree and clung to him, weeping, her face buried in his shoulder.

He waited till she was calmer, then said quietly, "I doubt you actually 'killed' him. I shouldn't have used that word. I imagine what happened is that he grabbed you, you fought to get free, and he was thrown off balance, fell, and struck his head. Isn't that right?"

"I...I suppose so." But even as she straightened, she gave another convulsive shudder. "Lucius, I believed all along it was a forest creature! Perhaps, later, I should have guessed...the timing...but I'd actually seen the bad color. I'd never seen it in a person before, certainly not in Noah."

"He was wearing it," Lucius pointed out. "And perhaps, in a sense, it had possessed him."

"Perhaps. But now that I know it was Noah, I keep remembering...not long before, he'd been playing too roughly with the children in the schoolyard, hitting them. I made him promise he wouldn't do it again. I drummed into him, 'No hitting!'

"And then, after he stabbed you...I've always known he wasn't right mentally, Lucius. But...I went into the Quiet Room and I hit him, again and again and again! I had to be pulled off him! He didn't fight back, didn't try to defend himself. Maybe he was too stunned to react, I don't know. My last memory of him is of his screams as I was forced out of the room."

"Ivy," Lucius said helplessly, "if you're blaming yourself, you shouldn't -"

"I don't blame myself, exactly. But now that I know who it was, I keep wondering...after I'd hit him like that, did he really hate me enough to want to kill me? Or did he want to take me by force, sexually?

"Or..." Her voice sank to a whisper. "Th-this is the possibility that could drive me crazy, if I let it. Could it be that he'd forgotten the whole thing, and was just _playing_ with me? Wanted to _race_ , as we'd done so many times before?"

Lucius was at a loss for words. _Playing a game. He may simply have been playing a game..._

He tightened his grip on Ivy, wishing they could hold each other forever and not let go.

But after a few minutes he made himself say, "I'm sure you won't want to sleep here. We can safely go a little farther, if we start now."

Ivy shook her head. "No, this spot is fine. As I said, I'm not sure this is where it happened. I only expect to rest, not sleep...and I'll think of Noah wherever we are."

.

.

Lucius didn't mean to sleep either. But as he sat with his back to a tree trunk and Ivy's head cradled in his lap, he drifted off...

:::::::::::::::::::: __

Howling forest creatures chased them through the woods. When they fell, exhausted, the slavering monsters were upon them.

Blood-red cloaks were flung aside - and the monsters stood revealed as village elders. But the elders took an immediate voice vote and agreed, unanimously, that the young couple should be put to death for disloyalty.

While Lucius was struggling to protect Ivy, he felt another knife slide between his ribs. This time, however, the face inches from his was not confused but leering. It was the face of Edward Walker...

::::::::::::::::::::

He woke, gasping, in a cold sweat.

He evidently hadn't writhed or made a sound. Ivy, contrary to her expectations, was sound asleep.

Lucius didn't believe the elders could really be murderous. And he knew it wasn't likely they'd been pursued: no one could have foreseen that he'd take time to explore instead of driving straight ahead. By the time they'd been missed, it must have seemed they had an insurmountable head start.

Nevertheless, he spent the rest of the night on the lookout for bobbing lanterns. Twice he imagined he saw them.

.

.

Come morning, they quickly agreed to go forward. Based on Ivy's previous experience, they were sure they'd reach the wall before hunger or thirst became a serious problem. Once past it, they could only hope they'd be as lucky in their meetings as she'd been before.

They'd been dutifully following the stream since the previous afternoon. But by mid-morning, Lucius needed a change.

"Ivy, would you -"

She'd apparently sensed his restlessness. "I know," she said calmly. "You want me to stay here while you explore."

He grinned, and promised once again that he wouldn't risk getting out of earshot. _There isn't much variety in here. Prowling around may be a waste of time. But I may never come this way again, save on our return trip._

He'd been walking for about ten minutes when he stepped on something hard - turning his ankle, but not painfully.

He bent to examine the object on the ground.

Picked it up, wiped some of the dirt off it, and turned it over and over. _It can't be..._

"Ivy?" he called. His voice was unsteady.

"Over here!" she responded.

"I'm coming back. I've found something."

He hurried back to her, carrying his unlikely find. The light was better near the stream bed; he inspected it again, reaching the same unnerving conclusion.

"What is it?" Ivy prodded him.

"I...I've never seen one of these, only pictures in books. But the pictures were detailed. I don't see how this could be anything but the real thing..."

 _"What?"_ She was exasperated now.

Wiping his brow, he said, _"A human skull."_

.

.

While Ivy grimly held onto the skull, Lucius resumed his exploration. By mid-afternoon he'd found a dozen skeletons, with tattered remnants of clothing attached. He wasn't knowledgeable enough to distinguish male from female, but four had undoubtedly been children. The finds were spread among three sites.

"You're sure of this?" asked a shaken Ivy. "They couldn't be...forest creatures?"

"Ivy, the bones look just like the pictures I've seen in books on human anatomy. And the clothing - I can't be sure what it looked like, but there were a half-dozen fabrics and colors. I've even seen ruined shoes." He shuddered. "Some of the clothing was...the bad color. But it's mixed with others, as if these people didn't consider it any different."

They sat side by side on a fallen tree limb, hand in hand, shivering.

Lucius knew the same question was in both their minds. _Do we go forward or back?_

Ivy said, "Perhaps they were killed -" The harshness of the words made her stop and gulp. But she made herself go on. "Perhaps they were killed by whatever seems to be killing the forest."

"Why didn't they leave? People shouldn't even have been _in_ this forest," Lucius pointed out. "No one from the village has ever gone missing. Villagers wouldn't have been wearing clothing that included the bad color, in any case. Why would anyone else have been here?"

"Outsiders would have had no reason to fear 'forest creatures.' "

"No, but the forest certainly isn't inviting." Reluctantly, he suggested, "Perhaps they took refuge here because the violence of the towns is so appalling. It's possible they'd heard rumors of our village, and hoped to reach it. But if they knew of it, they never found it. They wandered in the forest till they died of exposure."

He heard Ivy gulp again.

After a long minute, she said, "That doesn't explain why the forest itself is in such decline. Or why, if the towns are so horrible, I met a man as kind as Kevin."

"No," he admitted.

 _Do we go forward or back?_

Ivy said quietly, "The one thing we're sure of is that _our parents lied to us_."

"Yes." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Ivy, I want you to think long and hard about this. Are you willing to take the chance of going on, knowing we may be killed?"

"I've already thought long and hard, Lucius. If you're willing, so am I. At this point -"

"What?"

She still hesitated, and he urged, "Please, Ivy. I want to know what you really think."

"Here it is, then." She squeezed his hand. "I dread the possibility of losing you. But after coming this far, I'll never be able to rest if we don't learn the truth."


	8. Chapter 8

"The rumor you've heard is true," Alice Hunt said bluntly. "Lucius and Ivy are missing."

She waited for the chorus of gasps and groans to subside. Before she could continue, Finton Coin was on his feet. "Should we mount a search, Mrs. Hunt? They may be here in the village somewhere, injured!"

 _Poor Finton_ , she thought. _Still trying to make amends for having left Ivy in the forest, all those months ago._

"No, no, Finton. But thank you for thinking of it." She looked around to confirm that she had everyone's attention. "I'm sure they're not in the village."

More gasps.

"There certainly is reason for concern," she went on. "Their lives may be in danger. But we mustn't panic, or despair. One thing I know: they have _not_ been taken by...those we don't speak of."

That brought the response she'd expected. There were a few audible sighs of relief, but most of the young adults at the meeting looked skeptical. The elders merely looked glum.

"Let me explain," Alice continued. "There are certain facts you all know. Everyone has heard of the well-attested Miracle of the Violet-Scented Blood. That was a sign from God - an indication that my son Lucius is a saint, given to us for a purpose."

There was a murmur of assent; many villagers piously fingered violet-colored scarves and belts.

"You also know Lucius and Ivy are in love. It's no secret that there's been an estrangement. Apparently, they disagreed on a course of action. But Ivy was last seen, early yesterday morning, by her sister Peggy. She told Peggy she was going to find Lucius, and they were almost certainly going to reconcile!"

Amid a louder buzz, Peggy sat up straighter in her chair, pleased as punch with her new celebrity. Alice reflected that this was the most inclusive village meeting she'd ever seen. Children and even infants were present, because no adults had been willing to stay home to babysit.

But while Peggy Walker was smiling, her parents were distinguished by their gray faces and downcast eyes. _More than any of the rest of us_ , Alice noted, _they act as if they're waiting fatalistically for the world to end_.

At least they weren't interfering with her attempt at damage control.

"I think we can safely assume that within a half hour of Peggy's having seen Ivy, Ivy and Lucius were together. Ivy was with my son voluntarily, and they had reconciled. The question we need to ask is: where did they go, and why?"

She looked around again, meeting one pair of concerned eyes after another. "There's something else we all know, though we seldom discuss it. We elders had a reason for taking the drastic step of settling here. We were fleeing the horrendous violence of the towns. We felt that menace justified using even Covington Wood, with its own terrors, as a buffer.

"But as Lucius had pointed out before he was wounded, there are times when we suffer from a lack of medicines that may be available in the towns. Isolated as we are, we don't know whether those towns are changing, perhaps becoming less threatening."

This heretical idea was greeted with stunned silence.

"Until the crisis last fall," she went on, "the elders had thought it best to keep secret the existence of magic rocks that can, in an emergency, assure safe passage through the forest." _More accurately, it was only last fall that Edward dreamed them up._ "They had, after all, never been tested. But now we know villagers can negotiate the forest. It's not easy, not a thing to be undertaken lightly, but it can be done -"

"Wait a minute." Young Morgan Collins rose now. "Ivy had the magic rocks with her, and she was attacked."

"Yes," Alice said smoothly, "but she wasn't harmed. She fought her attacker off and killed him. That's the power of the rocks. They don't guarantee that the bearer won't be attacked, only that he or she will prevail."

Morgan sat down, looking decidedly unenthusiastic about those rocks.

"So," Alice went on, "the question becomes: has the outside world improved enough that we should risk sending an occasional messenger for medical supplies?" She took a deep breath and dropped her bombshell. "I believe Lucius and Ivy have taken on the mission of finding the answer to that question. They've gone to visit the towns!"

There were cries of horror, but she raised a hand to silence them. Her audience was still anxious to hear what she had to say.

"I'm convinced they've gotten through the forest safely. Beyond the forest...yes, they may be killed. They've heroically chosen to take that risk, for the good of the community.

"We can't know what they'll find out there, how much exploring they'll think is necessary. We should wait at least a year b-before" - her voice broke, and the emotion was unfeigned - "before we...g-give up on them."

She steadied herself with an effort. "If we conclude they're dead, killed by wicked outsiders, we should honor them both as saints who sacrificed themselves for the village. And we should wait for a generation before anyone tries again."

Several people were waving their hands, as she'd known they would be. She acknowledged a bright young woman in the front row. "Joanna? A question?"

"Yes! Won't it be impossible ever to try again, if the magic rocks have been lost with Lucius and Ivy?"

"No," she replied. "Lucius and Ivy didn't take the magic rocks!"

When she was able to make herself heard over the tumult that followed, she said, "Remember the Violet-Scented Blood? Lucius is special! He and only he - and Ivy now, because she's under his protection - can be safe in the forest without the rocks. I'm sure he came to understand that, through prayer. And he spent most of the night before last in the forest, alone, to confirm that he was right.

"The creatures there can't harm him. We know from sad experience that misguided humans _can_ harm him. Both he and Ivy may be killed in the towns, but they freely accepted the risk."

As the crowd settled down, it seemed her story was being well received. So she added a final embellishment: "If they don't return and we're forced to wait for a generation, God will surely send another saint who'll be able to venture out and investigate without taking the magic rocks."

.

.

She'd hoped the Walkers would join her when the meeting broke up. _We have more in common than we've ever had before, with this shared fear for our children. Who else can we talk to as freely?_ But Edward never met her eyes. He and his wife rushed away, herding Peggy and their other little ones before them.

Sighing, Alice turned to meet the quizzical gaze of August Nicholson. After checking that no one was within earshot, August said, "Were you -" Then he broke off, with a pained look on his face.

"What?"

After a reluctant pause, he said heavily, "I was about to ask, 'Were you telling the truth about what you think Lucius believes?'

"And then it hit me that we've come to a sorry state, when it's not an insult to ask a friend whether she's lying. We've all told so many lies that most of the time, we think nothing of it."

Alice winced. "You're right. I'm not proud of myself."

They walked out of the meeting hall together, trailing behind the others. "To answer your question," she admitted, "I wasn't telling the truth. I don't think Lucius imagines the strangeness of his blood gives him any miraculous protection."

August stopped walking, and tugged on her sleeve to make her turn and look at him. "Does that mean he's aware no one needs 'miraculous protection' in those woods?"

She gave a slow nod.

August went pale. But after a second he said, "I'm not surprised. Lucius has always had a keen intelligence. I suppose Ivy told him what she'd been told, and he figured out the rest?" Frowning, he continued to think aloud. "After Edward's admissions, the only evidence for the existence of 'forest creatures' was that Ivy had supposedly killed one. She wasn't likely to question that, because the alternative was to realize she'd killed Noah. Lucius wouldn't have had the same problem in facing it."

"No," Alice acknowledged. "But I don't think he learned anything from Ivy till after he'd discovered the truth on his own. He really did roam the woods most of the night before they reconciled." Thoughtfully, she suggested, "He may have become suspicious, checked out the nearby woods, and found those tunnels we never bothered to camouflage. But...children had seen him go into the Quiet Room the previous day, and no one noted when he came out. I think it's more likely he found _that_ tunnel entrance."

August grunted in disgust. "And we thought we were protecting ourselves so well, when we hid our costumes more securely after Noah had gotten his hands on one. The tunnels alone are damning!"

Then he took a keen look at Alice. He asked gently, "You truly do fear for Lucius's life, don't you?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. His father -" Her voice broke again, and she gave a long shudder. At last she got the words out. "His father was murdered out there when he was younger than Lucius is now."

"God. I'm sorry."

She knew, without being reminded, that August had lost a brother "out there."

 _But he's lost the rest of his family here in the village. Most recently, his son. His only child, who could so easily have been saved..._

They resumed walking, slowly. "If they don't return," August said kindly, "it may not mean they're dead. They may decide to make a new life for themselves." When she didn't answer, he continued. "Even if they don't want to hurt their parents, they may come to feel they'll hurt you - and everyone else - more if they return, and can't keep secret what they've learned. They'd be spending so much time with their own age group that with the best will in the world, it would be next to impossible to keep the truth to themselves."

"I know," she said forlornly.

 _I want, above all else, to know whether Lucius is safe. But if he and Ivy return, this world we've built will come crashing down around us. And Lucius may well hate me...I will have lost my only child in any case._

She came to a halt. Trembling, blinded by tears.

August slipped an arm around her, offering his shoulder to cry on.

And suddenly, as she accepted it, it dawned on her that Edward Walker was not the man with whom she had most in common.


	9. Chapter 9

"There's another visitor in the forest!" Lucius kept his tone light so as not to alarm Ivy. But when he looked at her, he saw she was smiling.

"A robin," she announced, tilting her head to listen to its song. "A good omen!" Villagers welcomed robins as harbingers of spring, their coloring not vivid enough to be condemned. "Can you see it?"

"Yes. It's in a tree just ahead." They'd stopped walking, and Lucius admired the bird for the minute until it flew away. Then he said more soberly, "We must be near our destination."

Ivy nodded. "I'm sure we are. Let's hurry - I'm eager for you to see what's out there."

Another five minutes of walking brought them to the hidden road. Then, hand in hand, they broke into a run. Lucius yelled "Stop!" just as Ivy's extended cane touched the wall.

While they paused to catch their breath, he studied the vine-covered barrier. The vine was sturdy, though in early spring its leaves were few in number, small and light green. The wall itself was formidable. As his heartbeat slowed to normal, he asked indignantly, "Did your father know about this? How did he expect you to get past it?"

"It wasn't here when the village was founded," Ivy explained. "After my trip outside, Papa told me it had occurred to him that someone might have put up a wall. But it would have been meant to discourage people from entering the woods, not to trap anyone who had. So there would be gates, and they'd be easy to open from this side." She made a face. "Who knows, maybe there are gates - somewhere. But Papa thought this would be a logical place for one, near the old road. And he was wrong."

"He's been wrong about a lot of things," Lucius said dryly. Then, still inspecting the wall, he admitted, "We could have given this more thought ourselves, before we left home. I know you managed the climb once wearing long skirts, but it would be easier in pants. I could have found a pair of trousers to fit you."

Ivy frowned. "I would have liked that, but what would people in the towns have thought of me?"

Lucius looked her up and down, appraising the initially blue-and-white dress on which her sister Kitty had lovingly embroidered clusters of violets. (He himself never wore the "holy color": his wardrobe was mostly black and gray.)

Being a plain-spoken man, he said, "As it is, what they're likely to think of both of us is that our clothes - and our bodies - need a good washing."

"Oh," Ivy said in a small voice. "I suppose you're right. I got into more dirt the other time, but most of it was on my safe-color cloak rather than my dress."

 _The other time..._

Lucius took another look at the stains on her dress, the twigs in her hair, the smudge on her nose. "You're beautiful," he said softly, "dirty or not." Then he drew her into his arms and kissed her.

.

.

They climbed side by side, clinging to the vine. _Any nearby robins must find me a strange sight_ , Lucius reflected. He'd been unwilling to part with the first human skull he'd found. Now, to free his hands for climbing, the skull was wrapped in his jacket and the bundle hung on his back, tied loosely around his neck by the jacket sleeves. Ivy's cane was precariously hooked onto it as well.

He hadn't decided what to do with the skull. But he knew he wanted it on the same side of the wall as himself.

Peering over the top, he could see there was less vine on the other side. It was pure luck that Ivy hadn't broken an ankle on her prior visit. "Let me make the drop first!" He was over and down before she could argue; he landed safely, then caught her and broke her fall.

"Is anyone else in sight?" she asked urgently as she scrambled to her feet.

"No." He got up more slowly, looking around.

"Tell me what you see, Lucius!"

"Nothing startling. There's a road, well maintained. And on the other side, more forest, not walled off. The wall, the road, the forest across the way, all stretch as far as I can see, in both directions." His eyes narrowed. "But the forest is green, all the trees in leaf. It's much healthier than the one we left."

They fell silent, neither of them sure what to do next.

Lucius unwrapped his bundle and donned the jacket again.

"The other time," Ivy said uncertainly, "Kevin came along right after I got here. But the whole time I was here, no one else passed by. Not unless they were so quiet I didn't hear them..."

They both knew her hearing was acute.

At last Lucius said, "Do you feel able to do more walking? It's late afternoon - perhaps we should keep moving. We may be safer if we reach a town before nightfall."

 _Or we may **not** be safer. It's maddening to know so little! I have no idea in which direction a town may be closer, or if one is more dangerous than another._

Ivy said, "You're probably right. And I'm ready to go on. It will be a relief to walk on a smooth road."

He reached a decision. "There's one thing I want to do first," he told her. "Remember the skull I brought with me? I'm going to bury it, right here."

Before he could explain, Ivy was nodding. "So assuming we don't tell anyone about the skull - or even if we do - it will help us find our way home! You'll be able to locate the spot where we came out of the forest by finding the recently disturbed earth."

"That's right." He gave her another quick kiss, then knelt and began digging with both hands. Ivy dropped to her knees beside him and tried to help.

They rearranged just enough soil to conceal the skull. As he got to his feet, wiping his hands on his already grimy trousers, Lucius said sardonically, "Did that remind you of something?"

"Yes." Rising, Ivy gave a grim nod. "Those poor young villagers rushing to bury every inoffensive flower of the bad color, never guessing their parents are making fools of them." She shuddered. "We can't let that go on."

"No."

 ** _If we get back safely_** , Lucius thought as he pondered the mystery of the skull, _we can't let that go on._


	10. Chapter 10

Starting where they'd emerged from the forest, they headed right, or more precisely, east. For no better reason than to prevent the sun's being in Lucius's eyes.

They'd been trudging along for some fifteen minutes when he heard a low, rumbling sound behind them. It seemed to be gaining on them - and quickly.

He grabbed Ivy, but she was reacting at the same time. They leapt to the side of the road. Then and only then, he turned to look at the inexplicably quiet wagon he assumed was coming up behind them...

And almost fainted.

The "wagon" was a metal monstrosity, approaching at an unheard-of speed. And it wasn't being drawn by horses. It was racing toward them with no visible means of propulsion! _Is it a vehicle, or a giant **bullet?**_

Before he could cry out, the thing came to a screeching stop beside them. A man was saying something. But for a moment, Lucius didn't even hear him. He was too distracted by the words printed on the side of the machine: "Walker Wildlife Preserve."

 _"Walker"??_

The expression as a whole meant nothing to him. He'd never seen "wild" and "life" jammed together to form one word, and he couldn't imagine what the verb "preserve" had to do with any of it. But by what incredible coincidence was the first word that greeted them, outside the forest, _Ivy's family name?_

The driver of the strange conveyance could no longer be ignored. Using a door on the other side, he stepped out into the road. "Ivy?" he called. He rushed to her, looking alarmed. "Ivy - it is you! It's me, Kevin! Do you know this guy? Is he with you?"

Lucius suddenly understood what he was seeing. _Good grief. This "Kevin" is younger than I am. And he's concerned for Ivy because he thinks **I'm** a stranger trying to take advantage of her!_ Stunned though he still was by the appearance of Kevin's "truck," he almost laughed out loud.

He sobered quickly as another thought struck him. He assumed all men would find Ivy as desirable as he did; in the village, where everyone behaved civilly, that was no problem. (At least, it wouldn't have been a problem if Noah had not been deranged.) What if the wider world was different, and Kevin could be expected to kill him and take Ivy by force? Or if not Kevin, the next man they met?

Ivy didn't seem troubled by dark thoughts; she beamed at being reunited with a friend. "Kevin! I'm so thankful we met you!" She hastened to introduce them, explaining, "Yes, this man certainly is with me. Kevin, I'd like you to meet my fiance, Lucius Hunt. When I needed medicine last year, it was because Lucius had been injured."

"Oh." Kevin looked relieved, though still confused, and perhaps a bit deflated at hearing the word "fiance." He extended a hand in greeting, saying, "Pleased to meet you, Lucius."

A dazed Lucius shook hands with him. "Pleased to meet you," he echoed. _Is this a ritual on meeting someone? Will he be shocked if we tell him I'm doing it for the first time in my life?_

Kevin turned back to Ivy. "Do you, uh, need more medicine?" He sounded nervous, Lucius realized, and he'd begun shifting from one foot to the other.

"No," Ivy told him. "This time Lucius and I mean to visit a town."

"Ivy!" Lucius couldn't keep silent any longer. "I have to tell you something." He put a steadying arm around her. "The reason you've never heard the horses pulling Kevin's truck is that there aren't any. The thing is made of some kind of metal, and it runs on its own, as if it were alive!"

 _"What?"_ Ivy was as stunned as he'd expected."No horses?" But she recovered more quickly than he had, continuing, "You mean it's actually a _train?_ "

They'd seen a book in their childhood, he remembered, with pictures of trains. Big, dirty-looking things with numerous cars, used for transporting goods between far-flung towns...

"Something like a train," he said dubiously. "But it doesn't run on tracks."

Kevin was staring at them, open-mouthed. Now he found his voice and said, in a tone of awe, "Y-you mean... _both_ of you would've expected my truck to be pulled by horses? You've never known anything else, other than trains?"

"That's right," Lucius told him, fighting to keep his voice steady. "In fact" - _I may as well be honest -_ "we only know trucks and trains from books. I've never seen a horse pull more than a cartload of vegetables. Our village is small enough that people go everywhere on foot."

He realized all three of them were trembling.

Kevin stammered, "And n-now..you want to go to a _town?_ "

"Yes," Ivy said bravely. "Can you help us, Kevin?" Her confidence waning a bit, she continued, "C-can you take us in your truck?"

"Jesus," Kevin muttered. "My boss will kill me -"

"Oh!" Ivy's face went white. "Then of course we don't want you to do it! If you could just tell us whether we're headed in a sensible direction -"

"Wait a minute." Kevin was as pale as she was. "Did you think I meant literally that my boss would kill me?"

She frowned. "Of course..."

Kevin looked from her to Lucius. "You thought so too?"

Lucius nodded wordlessly. _Why would he have said it if he didn't mean it?_

"That was just a figure of speech," Kevin explained. He fidgeted for a few seconds, then blurted out, "My God! What sort of place do you come from? Do people there kill each other all the time?"

"Of course not!" Two voices, equally shocked.

"Okay, okay," Kevin said quickly. "I'm sorry I scared you. Or insulted your community or whatever. But I don't know what I should do...well, wait a minute. I am sure of one thing." He climbed back into his truck, and emerged a few seconds later holding an object that was - to Lucius's surprise, at this point - identifiable. A gold pocket watch.

Pressing it into Ivy's hands, the young man said, "I've always regretted taking this from you, Ivy. I got the medicine you needed from one of our guard shacks - it didn't cost me a cent. I guess I just held onto the watch 'cause you'd caught me by surprise when you gave it to me. I even went into the Preserve a couple times, hoping I could find you and return it. But I couldn't."

"Please, Kevin," Ivy protested, "I want you to keep it!"

"No! I don't think you realize how valuable it is," he told her. "Even if I had paid for the medicine, it wouldn't have cost anywhere near what this watch is worth. I had a jeweler look at it. He said it must be a family heirloom - it dates from the 19th century."

"Wait!" Lucius croaked. He was dimly aware that Ivy looked as stunned as he felt; he'd merely been the first to speak. "This _is_ the 19th century!" In a small voice, he added, "Isn't it?"

"No." Kevin was now as white as a sheet. "This is the year 2005. What year did you think it was?"

The watch fell from Ivy's hand. She ignored it, standing motionless as a statue.

Lucius said weakly, "1898."

He saw Kevin shoot a quick look at Ivy, to confirm that she had no disagreement with what he'd said.

Then the men simply stared at each other.

At last Kevin said anxiously, "There's something really wrong here. I can't just drop you off in West Chester and say, 'Have a good time!' If you were brought up not knowing about cars, not knowing what _century_ it is, I think I should _tell_ someone.

"But at the same time, I've gotta consider my job. The people who run the Preserve don't want anyone looking too closely at it."

That gave Lucius an opening he'd wanted. "What's this 'Preserve'? And what does the name 'Walker' have to do with it? Ivy, I haven't had a chance to tell you this - the words 'Walker Wildlife Preserve' are printed on his truck, on his cap, and on shoulder patches on his jacket!"

"What?" Ivy came to life, backing a step away from her friend. "Kevin, I told you last year that my name is Walker. Do you know something about my family? And if you do, why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know if the name's a coincidence or not," Kevin said miserably. "Look, I've only worked here for two years, right? But what's supposed to be behind that wall is a forest, a safe place for animals and birds, where they can't be killed by hunters or threatened by development. It's financed by something called the Walker Foundation - some rich family's money, it's said.

"My job is just patrolling the border, keeping trespassers out. If I see a parked car I have to go in and roust the curiosity-seekers out of the place. But it's only happened twice, in two years.

"When I met you last year, Ivy, I thought maybe some of the Walkers were, um, eccentric enough to be living in the middle of their Preserve. And maybe you were as eccentric as any of them. I didn't dare say anything, to anyone.

"There's always been something strange about the Preserve. I didn't realize _how_ strange till I went in looking for you, went farther than I ever had before. Since then...I don't think anyone would kill me! But I have been nervous, 'cause I know more than I should. It's supposed to be a good, safe place for animals. But it's not." He shuddered. "It's not that at all."

Lucius hadn't understood every word, but he'd gotten the gist of it. He was sure Ivy had, too.

 _Kevin's an honest man, or he wouldn't have returned that watch. And if we can trust what he says, most people here don't kill casually or take killings for granted._

Taking Ivy's hand in his, he said carefully, "I saw things I didn't like while we were in the forest." He knew her well enough that he could interpret her squeeze of his hand as meaning _Yes, I agree we should tell him._

Kevin nodded. "I'm sure you couldn't miss it. Most of the trees dead or dying, no animals."

"Worse than that." Looking into the other man's eyes, Lucius said steadily, "Human skeletons. I counted a dozen."

 _"Wh-what?"_ Kevin obviously hadn't been aware of anything that irregular. He swayed, and had to lean against his truck. "Oh my God. Look, are you sure? Sure they're human, I mean? And they weren't buried - you didn't dig them up?"

"I've read books on anatomy," Lucius told him. "I feel sure they're human. And of course I didn't dig them up!

"But I did bury something. A human skull that was the first piece I found. I buried it on this side of the wall, back where we came over. So if you - or someone - want to check what I'm saying, you can do it without going into the forest."

"Okay." Kevin's hands were shaking as he pulled a small metallic object out of his pocket. "Do you know what a telephone is? They existed in 1898, the real 1898."

"No," Lucius and Ivy said together.

Kevin gave a weak smile. "I was gonna say this is a small, new-style telephone. But if you aren't even familiar with the old kind...it's a way I can talk to someone at a distance. All right?"

Ivy asked the reasonable question, "Who are you going to talk to?"

Kevin shuddered. "At this point...the police."


	11. Chapter 11

" 'Police'?" Ivy said dubiously. "They are...people hired to try to control the violence and lawlessness of the towns? We've been told they seldom succeed."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "It varies, I guess. There is a lot of 'violence and lawlessness.' But the way we look at it is that things would be worse _without_ police. Anyway, they investigate crimes, and we may have a crime here.

"There are different kinds of police," he continued. "I'm not sure who's responsible for policing a place like this - State, County, or the nearest town. But I don't need to know. Want to watch what I'm doing, Lucius?"

Lucius decided this was no time to say that he wasn't clear as to the meaning of _State,_ and _County_ had left him completely in the dark. He simply nodded, and hovered close as Kevin jabbed the "telephone" with his finger, three times in quick succession. "Nine-one-one, you got that? That's the number you call in an emergency - yes, hello, operator!"

Lucius found it hard to believe Kevin could speak into the hand-held device and be heard by someone at a distance. But now the telephone was emitting sounds of its own. The staccato bursts did indeed resemble another human voice, though he couldn't make out words as Kevin lifted the instrument closer to his ear. _Does this world employ magic, or are there reasonable explanations for its fantastic machines?_

"Look, operator," Kevin said, "I'm not sure this is exactly a nine-one-one emergency. But I think the cops will want to get out here to investigate, fast.

"My name is Kevin Lupinski. I'm a security guard with the Walker Wildlife Preserve. I have a young man and woman here who hiked out of the Preserve. They tell me they live in a village somewhere inside it, where no village should be."

The "operator" apparently had something to say at that point. Kevin listened for a few seconds, then said irritably, "Yes, I'm sure they're not pulling my leg!" (Lucius's bewilderment must have shown in his face: he paused to translate that as "playing a trick on me.") Returning to his conversation with the operator, he said, "Hear me out, will you? They'd never seen - well, the young woman is blind. But the point is, they'd never _heard of_ motor vehicles. Or phones, for that matter. They'd been brought up to believe they were living in the 19th century. They thought the year was 1898!"

To judge from his expression, the operator still wasn't convinced his story should be taken seriously. "There's something else," he said grimly. "The man says that while they were walking through the forest, he found a dozen human skeletons. He brought a skull out with him as proof - says he buried it on this side of the wall, and he'll be able to find it easily."

That seemingly produced the response he wanted. After listening for a few seconds more he said, "Yes, of course I'll stay here with them." A moment later he was putting the phone back in his pocket.

Lucius was puzzled. "You didn't tell them how to find us."

"There's no need," Kevin explained. "A nine-one-one operator has a way to pinpoint exactly where a call came from. It doesn't work everywhere, especially with cell phones - small phones like mine. But this is an area where it does work." As an afterthought, he said, "Drat. It might have made sense to go back to where the skull is, then call them. But now we have to wait here. Why don't you two get in my truck, so you can sit down and be comfortable for a few minutes?"

"Ivy?" Lucius asked. "What do you want to do?"

She was reaching out, anxiously, to clutch at him. But after she'd had time to think, she said, "It would be a relief to sit down and rest, in real seats. And we'll probably have to accustom ourselves to these vehicles sooner or later."

"Agreed." So he helped her into the cab of the truck and climbed in himself, with a minimum of guidance from Kevin - which consisted mostly of warning him what not to touch.

He'd barely begun examining the interior, describing it for Ivy, when they heard the rumble that heralded the approach of another vehicle. Kevin, standing outside, looked alarmed.

Startled, Ivy asked, "Can that be the police already?"

"No, I don't think so." They heard another screeching halt. Looking out a window, Lucius told her, "It's a second truck just like this one, with a sign reading 'Walker Wildlife Preserve'!"

"Stay in there," Kevin told them quickly.

As Lucius watched - giving Ivy a running description - the driver jumped out of the second truck and angrily confronted Kevin.

The men were identically dressed. The newcomer was slim and youthful-looking; Lucius guessed he'd be handsome if his face wasn't contorted by rage. But while Kevin could have passed for a resident of the village, this man had the darkest skin Lucius had ever seen, outside of picture-books.

The dark-skinned man made several attempts to approach their truck; each time, Kevin moved to block his way. They argued vehemently, while Lucius went clammy with dread. _Why are they fighting? And...how do men fight here? Are they carrying knives, maybe even guns? If the dark-skinned man kills Kevin, will he kill us too?_

Nothing of the sort happened. To his surprise, the two never came to blows; they raised their voices and gesticulated, but neither laid a hand on the other. They used some words he'd never heard before, and some that were puzzlingly out of context (such as _prick_ ). But in other respects, their argument was as civil as disputes in the village.

It ended as three more vehicles arrived on the scene, in rapid succession. These were very different in appearance, and bore a variety of markings. Two people got out of each of them. The dark-skinned man threw up his hands in disgust, and went off to argue with - Lucius assumed - the police.

Kevin came back to the truck, leaned inside, and said good-humoredly, "My boss. The cops called him. But see, I'm still alive!"

Lucius was perplexed. Looking after the dark-skinned man, he said, " _He's_ your boss?"

"Yeah, sure...wait a minute." With a sudden chill in his voice, Kevin said, "You have some kind of problem with that?"

Lucius noticed the chill, and was more confused than ever. _What did I say?_ "No, not a 'problem' exactly. But...how old is he?"

Kevin blinked. "How old?" After a moment's reflection, he said, "Early thirties, I guess. I've never thought about it. Why? What does his age have to do with anything?"

"Do I understand this correctly? Your 'boss' is a person who has authority over you in a work situation?" Boss-employee relationships existed in the village. They were usually short-term, coming about when someone needed assistance with farm chores, construction, or repairs. Payment was made in goods or services - unless crop failure, illness, or injury rendered the employer unable to pay. In those cases debts were forgotten, and everyone pulled together to help.

Kevin nodded. "That's right."

"To me, that man looks too young to be anyone's boss," Lucius explained.

"Too young? That's all you were thinking of?" Now Kevin seemed confused and amazed.

"Well, of course - it's startling! But..." Lucius pondered briefly, then said, "I think I can see why things are different here. I'm 25. In our village, there's no one between my age and, I'd guess, mid-forties. Anyone in a position of authority would be old enough to be my parent. But here, there are people in more age groups, so society has to be differently organized."

" _No one_ between 25 and 45?" Kevin echoed, in a tone of stunned disbelief. "This village of yours sounds stranger all the time."


	12. Chapter 12

Kevin's boss got in his truck and drove off. But as the police started to walk toward Kevin's truck, two more vehicles appeared, one coming from each direction. These were marked with seemingly meaningless combinations of letters and numbers. They pulled up on the other side of the road, and each of them disgorged two people hauling bulky equipment. Three of the police - one from each of their vehicles - headed over to talk to the new arrivals.

"What's going on?" Lucius asked.

"Those guys are with, uh, news organizations," Kevin said unhappily. "You know about - no, I suppose you don't. The thing is, people here are curious about unusual goings-on. So these news organizations try to find out what's happening and tell them."

"How did they learn about this so quickly?" Lucius pressed him, even as the confused Ivy was asking, "What 'guys'? How many?"

"Four of them, Ivy," Kevin filled her in. "They just got here, and some of the cops have gone across the road to talk to them. They're from two stations - organizations. But there's likely to be more.

"Sometimes they follow police cars," he explained, "when they think they may be headed somewhere interesting. But these cops didn't have sirens blaring. So the news guys must have heard them talking to their dispatchers on police-band radios." Before he could be asked to explain that, he translated. "Talking to the cops at headquarters who sent them here. Using something like a phone, except that it can be overheard."

Two more news crews arrived on the scene, just as the three remaining police officers came up to Kevin. The tallest said politely, "Mr. Lupinski? We'd like you to tell us what's going on." Glancing into the truck, he added, "You folks can stay in there for now."

Turning back to Kevin, he continued, "I'm Trooper Calhoun, Pennsylvania State Police. My friends are deputies from Chester and Delaware Counties. We won't know who has jurisdiction till we're clearer about the problem - the Feds may show up, too. But for now, tell us your story. Ignore the reporters!" This, as raised voices across the way caused Kevin's head to swivel in that direction, and one of the deputies muttered, "They're like mosquitoes."

While Lucius gave Ivy a whispered description of the officers ("One is a woman wearing trousers!"), Kevin repeated the information he'd given the nine-one-one operator. He added, "I guess I should also tell you I met Ivy, that is, Ms. Walker" - Lucius imagined the title spelled "Miz" - "last November, when she came out of the woods looking for medicine. She was wearing old-fashioned clothes then too, but we didn't discuss what year it was, or anything like that."

"Tell us about the medicine," prompted Calhoun. "What did she want? Did you get it for her?"

"She had a note explaining what was needed. Some kind of antibiotic. It was like a prescription, only the writing was clearer than any prescription I've ever seen. I remember it was signed by two people, Edward Walker and Victor Ashline, with an M.D. after Ashline's name." He shuffled uncomfortably. "I got the stuff from a cabinet in the nearest guard shack. Ms. Walker gave me a gold watch in payment. I know I shouldn't have kept the watch. I gave it back to her today. But when I said the year is 2005, she was so shook up that she dropped it. It's still on the ground over there." He pointed.

Calhoun didn't turn to look. "Someone will retrieve it later. You've said Ms. Walker is blind. Yet you're saying she came out of the woods _alone_ last November? Was she blind at that time?"

"Yes, sir, she was."

Frowning, Calhoun asked, "How long was she outside the Preserve on that occasion?"

"Only about an hour, sir. I got a ladder and helped her back over the wall."

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"No, sir. On the one hand, I knew no one was supposed to be living in there. But on the other, she said her name was _Walker_. I didn't know if I'd be in more danger of losing my job if I did or didn't help her.

"What I did know was that I liked her. So I helped her and kept my mouth shut about it."

The trooper and the two deputies conferred for a minute or so. Then Calhoun said, "All right, Mr. Lupinski. We'd like your friends to get out of the truck and answer some questions now."

Lucius and Ivy got out, and stood hand in hand. To Lucius's relief, Calhoun didn't insist on separating them. He and the other officers looked them over briefly; Lucius heard some murmured comments, which included the woman's awed reaction to the seeming authenticity of - of all things - Ivy's shoes.

At the same time, Lucius was studying the police. He realized, with a chill, that all three wore guns.

The questions the officers asked were probing but courteous. The young couple answered truthfully: Their village was unnamed ("Covington" being the name of the _forest_ and a long-ago settlement near it). The village had about 100 people. They were Christians, but they had no clergy, and religion was relatively casual. The community was governed by a council of elders, its founders. And no, it had no stockpile of weapons!

They'd been taught that the village was founded in 1874. Lucius had been born a year before that - where, he didn't know. Ivy, four years younger than he, had been born in the village. She was the second child of Edward and Tabitha Walker, and had gone blind at age eight. She and Lucius were engaged to be married.

One of the deputies - the one who wasn't a trouser-clad woman - cleared his throat and said, "Maybe we should consider the possibility that this village really does exist in another century. That there's some kind of time warp."

His colleagues turned to stare at him. He flushed up to the roots of his hair, but kept expounding on the idea. "Remember that old episode of _Twilight Zone?_ There was a guy living in the 19th century, who had a sick kid. He went over the crest of a hill and there was a time warp. All of a sudden he was in - the show's present, whatever year that was.

"He was scared by a truck, and he dropped his rifle and accidentally shot himself. A doctor patched him up and gave him penicillin. He learned from an encyclopedia that his sick kid was destined to survive and become a famous physician. So he went back to the past, and took the penicillin with him so he could save the kid's life."

His colleagues continued to stare.

A confused Ivy said, "Excuse me. I didn't understand the part about twilight. Or the peni-something. But were you saying people really can travel through time? You know it's been done?"

"No," Calhoun said in a strangled voice. "Deputy Prentiss was talking about a work of fiction."

"Oh." Ivy sounded relieved. "I was going to say that even if it is possible, I couldn't accept that it happened here. I would have had to pass through a 'time warp' twice, and arrive in the same future era. How likely is that?

"Besides, Lucius and I know our elders have lied to us about other things. Lying about the _century_ may seem outrageous. But by now, I can believe almost anything of them."

The female deputy muttered, "You sound more sensible than Prentiss."

Calhoun scowled at both deputies. "I think we can assume the village exists in our time," he said dryly. "And so do those skeletons. Tell us about them, Mr. Hunt."

Lucius described his finds. "May I ask," he ventured, "whether your people consider any color evil? Not to be worn?"

"A color? Evil? No, we don't."

"We've been taught that" - Lucius gulped and made himself say the word - " _red_ is an evil color. That may be an idea the elders invented, with no tradition behind it. Whatever its origin, we never wear red.

"Some of the clothing fragments I found with the skeletons include that color. But if no one but us considers it evil, that doesn't tell us anything about who the dead may be. They couldn't have been villagers in any case, because no one has ever gone missing."

"Could you find the sites with the skeletons again?" Calhoun asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm sure I could."

"And the buried skull?"

"No problem at all. In daylight, that is." The light was fading rapidly.

Calhoun got the point. "All right. We need more planning before police enter the Preserve, but there's nothing stopping us from retrieving that skull. Let's go." He scooped up the watch and pressed it into Ivy's hands. "I think this is your property, Ms. Walker," he said gallantly. "Now, are you two willing to ride in my patrol car? I think, Mr. Hunt, you'll be able to see the roadside better from it than from Mr. Lupinski's truck."

The deputies looked irritated; so did Kevin. But two minutes later Lucius and Ivy were settled in the troopers' car. Everyone else was in one vehicle or another, and the little caravan - news crews and all - was about to pull out.

It was delayed by the arrival of a dozen more State Police cars.

"Not to worry," Calhoun told his passengers. "Since the story's gotten out, we're providing better security for the Preserve. No way are we letting reporters and photographers in there! This still isn't enough, but it will do till the Governor can call out the National Guard."

Lucius didn't understand those terms, but they sent another chill through him. _What have we done?  
_.

.

.  
Once they set out, it took him only five minutes to locate the spot where he'd buried the skull. They retrieved it quickly.

But as the officers were agreeing that Chester County (whatever that was) should handle the analysis, Lucius, standing by the side of the road with Ivy, heard the strangest sound of that long, incredible day. A beating noise that grew louder and louder, till it seemed his eardrums must surely burst...it came, not from any sane direction, but from _overhead!_

Ivy shrieked. Lucius held her and tried to shield her, even as he let out a despairing shriek of his own.

Finding himself still alive a few seconds later, he dared to look up - and saw a monstrous machine suspended in the air, with a whirling vortex above it. The thing dropped straight down, slowly, and settled in the road like a giant bird. As the vortex slowed its spin, he realized it was made up of separate, rotating blades.

No one but he and Ivy seemed alarmed. Kevin elbowed his way past several gaping officers to reach them. "It's all right!" he assured them. "Don't be scared. It's just another kind of vehicle."

"A...vehicle?" Lucius echoed, stunned.

Staring at the thing, he realized there was lettering on its side. But it made no sense, it didn't spell a word...

Puzzled, he read aloud, "FBI?"

Trooper Calhoun sighed. "Just like I expected. The Feds."

.

.

The "Fed" who climbed out of the machine was a woman with short, spiky blond hair. She wore a black jacket and trousers and a bright red blouse. Lucius almost choked as he tried to describe her appearance to the trembling Ivy.

The woman looked around, searching for something or someone. When she spotted Lucius and Ivy - recognizable as much by their shaken state as by their clothing - she came straight to them. "Ms. Walker, Mr. Hunt? I'm so sorry I frightened you! That was stupid of me - I should have had the pilot set the chopper down farther away, and walked here." She gripped Lucius's cold hand in her warm one, and the sincerity in her eyes warmed his heart. "I'm Stacey McGill," she explained. "Special Agent, Federal Bureau of Investigation. That just means I'm a cop with the national government, not one of the local ones."

Lucius had only the vaguest idea of what she meant, but he managed to say politely, "Pleased to meet you."

Ivy pulled herself together and asked, "What's a 'chopper'?"

"The formal name for it is a helicopter," the FBI agent said kindly. "It's a small flying machine. We have larger ones, called airplanes. But choppers are useful because they can ascend straight up and descend straight down - airplanes can't do that. Choppers can land on a highway or a rooftop, and take off just as easily."

"Flying machines," Ivy whispered. "That's amazing!"

McGill squeezed her hand as well before turning to the other police officers to discuss what they should do. Lucius heard Calhoun ask, "Are you ATF? Out of Philly?" (He heard that as "filly," which made no sense at all.)

"Um, yes," McGill acknowledged.

"I don't think this is a case for ATF," the trooper told her. "Doesn't sound like there's an armed cult holed up in there." ( _Cult_ was another of those mystery words Lucius had never heard before.)

"I hope there isn't," she replied. "But we still have to explain the skeletons I've heard about. I think I'm going to be teamed with an IC agent who's flying in from Minneapolis."

By then Lucius had heard so many incomprehensible references that he stopped even trying to listen in.

.

.

After the police had conferred for a half hour, Agent McGill approached Lucius and Ivy with a proposition. "First," she said, "I want to be sure you understand that you're not prisoners, not under arrest. No one imagines you've done anything wrong. If you want to go back to your village - or anywhere else - no one will stop you. But we will have to investigate the Preserve, and at some point, go into the village ourselves.

"We hope you'll decide to cooperate with us. I can take you to Philadelphia, a city not far from here. My agency will provide you with a place to stay, in a safehouse - a house where we usually board trial witnesses. You'll have privacy, your meals will be provided, and you should be very comfortable. We'll bring in experts to help you adjust to this new world you're in."

Lucius had regained his composure. He said, "I want to know more about the investigation you're planning."

"You will," McGill assured him. "Both of you, at every step of the way. I don't know much myself yet. But we won't let reporters or curiosity-seekers violate the Preserve. Even if we assume there were a dozen non-natural deaths in that forest, they took place years ago - no lives are in danger now. So there's no need to rush. I think we can investigate what happened in the forest without attracting the attention of the villagers.

"As I said, there are reasons why we'll eventually have to go into the village. But ideally, we won't need to do it for several months. By then _you'll_ be able to go in first, to tell your friends about the outside world and prepare them."

Ivy asked the practical question, "Suppose we've discovered we hate the outside world?"

"Then you can tell them that," McGill said quietly. "It's a chance we're willing to take. It would still be better for them to be prepared by friends who've lived in both cultures than for us simply to barge in."

As they hesitated, she smiled and said, "You must be starving. Why don't you come with me, have a good meal and get settled for the night? You won't be committing yourselves. You can decide to leave at any time, and we'll take you anywhere you want to go."

For the first time, Lucius realized he _was_ starving.

.

.

Five minutes later they were inside the helicopter - strapped tight in their seats, but still holding hands as they yelled goodbyes to a grinning Kevin. They'd all been assured that even if Kevin lost his job, he wouldn't suffer financially in the long run.

McGill, sitting up front with the pilot, turned to say, "I'm going to phone ahead about dinner. Is steak okay?"

She had to clarify the meaning of "steak." When she did, they were shocked. As one, they replied, "We don't eat meat!"

"That's fine," McGill said amiably. "We'll arrange something else. Do you eat other products that come from animals? Butter, cheese, eggs?"

"Yes." It had never occurred to Lucius that anyone wouldn't.

He was still thinking about food as the chopper lifted off the ground. He let out a startled yelp. _If I'd had dinner, I'd be losing it!_

But the sounds Ivy was making were squeals of delight.

 _What? She's enjoying it? Then it must be all right. Just relax..._

He did.

And soon he was flying high, reveling in the wildest thrill ride of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this, in 2004, I thought ATF ("Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms") was a division of the FBI. I believe now that it was separate, even then. I actually had checked a Dept. of Justice organizational chart online, but I must have misread it! I can't think of a non-awkward way to correct the error, so I'm letting it stand.


	13. Chapter 13

"Mr. Hunt, Ms. Walker?" McGill called back from the front seat of the helicopter. She needed a near-shout to be heard over the sound of those rotating blades.

Lucius was babbling to Ivy, trying to describe the incredible number and patterns of lights that dotted the darkening landscape. He stopped and let Ivy yell back, "Yes?"

"Trooper Calhoun told me your village only has about 100 people," the FBI agent continued, still almost at the top of her lungs. "And you wanted to visit a town. Do you understand what a city is? Have you heard the term?"

"A large town? I didn't know until today that any such places were near us."

"I think I should prepare you for Philadelphia. It has one and a half million people, and you've been living within 50 miles of it!"

Lucius and Ivy bleated in unison, "One and a half _million?_ "

The figure was incomprehensible. After they'd said it, they lapsed into stunned silence.

.

.

The lights of the city below them were as astonishing as its size. Lucius shared fragmentary impressions with Ivy, but he'd stopped trying to understand what he saw.

The chopper made a slow, controlled descent, and came to rest on a rooftop that was higher than any elevation he'd ever seen. _How can a building be this tall? Why would anyone add so many floors?_ Tall as it was, he realized it was dwarfed by some neighboring structures.

The pilot, a fit-looking man older than any of the village elders, hopped out and began chaining the vehicle to moorings. McGill helped the young couple out.

Lucius was embarrassed at finding himself unsteady on his feet. _Am I more wobbly than Ivy?_ As a cover for not doing much immediate walking, he paused to look around. Thankfully, the wall along the edges of the roof was more than waist-high. He noted that while the roof was larger than any in the village, it wasn't huge. _So for some reason, these people build on normal-size lots and expand **upward?**_

McGill led them to a doorway into the building, and down a flight of stairs into a featureless corridor lined with closed doors. Stairs and corridor were lit by glowing ceiling panels. Before Lucius could question the source of light, McGill said, "This is just an office building, a place where people work. It won't take us long to get to that house where dinner's waiting! But while we're here, does anyone need to use the bathroom?"

Not surprisingly, they did.

She escorted Ivy into a room marked "Women." The pilot, who'd come down the stairs behind them, accompanied Lucius into one marked "Men." They were all laughing when they came out. The villagers had been introduced to some startlingly new-to-them plumbing; but they'd learned city dwellers' _personal_ "plumbing" was reassuringly like their own.

McGill's next stop was at unmarked side-by-side doors, mysteriously lacking knobs or handles. "I know you've never been in an elevator," she said. "But have you heard of them? Early models existed in the 19th century."

Lucius said, "No."

"Okay, I'll explain." McGill pressed a button on the wall, a representation of an arrow pointing downward; it lit up at her touch. "When these doors open, we'll go into what will seem like a tiny room, well lighted. It'll take us downstairs faster than we could get there by walking." There was a sharp _ding!_ The doors opened and they stepped in, Lucius with a protective arm around Ivy. "See those numbered buttons on the wall, Mr. Hunt? They correspond to floors of the building. I can press one to take us to any floor. We want to go all the way down, so I'll press 'L' - just to be confusing, that's marked 'L' for 'Lobby' instead of '1'!" She grinned as she pressed it. "Don't worry, you'll get used to things like that."

Lucius and Ivy gasped at the rapid drop from what he'd realized was the 40th floor. He suspected he'd get used to the numbering more easily than he would the sensation. But after a closer look at the wall buttons, he had to ask: "Why is it not possible to get off at the 13th floor?"

McGill and the pilot laughed, and as the elevator came to a stop, McGill said, "Our society has some silly conventions. The number 13 is supposedly unlucky. Most people don't really believe that, but they're still a little bit superstitious. So in a lot of buildings - mostly older ones, like this - the 13th floor is called the 14th."

"But the 13th floor, or the 13th anything, _is_ the 13th," Ivy objected, "no matter what one _calls_ it!"

"Yep," was the good-humored response. "That's why I said it's silly!"

"But also," Lucius mused, "fearing the number 13 seems silly in itself." _And our village's fear of the color red is probably just as baseless._

They stepped out of the elevator into a large room that seemed to take up most of the ground floor. It was empty save for one man seated at a desk. He looked momentarily startled, then recognized McGill and waved them on their way.

"This lobby would be crowded during the day," she explained as she led them toward an out-of-the-way door. "But almost all the workers have left by now."

They exited the building into a walled lot where a number of vehicles were parked. The pilot said goodbyes all around and left them, heading for a ground vehicle of his own. McGill shepherded her charges into a black car, made sure their seat belts were fastened, and settled herself behind the wheel.

"Do most people know how to operate these things?" Lucius asked as she drove toward the gate, with a toot of her horn to the pilot as he held his silver car back and let her precede him.

"In this part of the world, most adults do," she replied. "Most families own one or more cars, and they drive every day. They _don't_ have easy access to the kind of air travel we just used. But most people travel by air occasionally, in those planes I mentioned. Passenger vehicles that hold hundreds of people."

Ivy said slowly, "You mean...a single passenger vehicle, flying through the air, will be carrying more people than the entire population of our village?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Do they ever _fall out of_ the air? Kill the people?"

McGill gulped. "Yes," she admitted, as a guard waved her past a lowered barrier. "Once in a while, they do."

.

.

Lucius couldn't brood about that for long. They pulled out of the lot and were let into a seemingly endless line of cars, moving at a crawl. Blaring horns suggested most of the drivers were frustrated. But much as he wanted dinner, he was seeing a big city for the first time in his life - and he was enthralled.

"It's evening," he told Ivy. "Yet there's bright light everywhere. I can see lights on poles, but it's not clear how they work. They seem almost unneeded, because there are other lights on signs, forming words and pictures. In colors, some of them blinking.

"The footpaths have a gray surface, as hard as the road. The buildings, all brick or stone, are close to the footpaths. They tower to the sky! I don't see a tree or a blade of grass anywhere.

"And the people...even at this hour, the footpaths are crowded. Different skin colors, different modes of dress - there doesn't seem to be any standard appearance. Some women wear trousers. Some wear dresses as long as yours, though they're made differently. But others wear skirts that stop above their knees! All different hair lengths, too - that seems to be the same for men. And some men are clean-shaven, while others have mustaches and still others, beards."

He paused and said guiltily, "Maybe I shouldn't be trying to describe things to Ivy, Agent McGill?" He'd heard how the other police officers addressed her. "Maybe you should do it, because you understand them better?"

Ivy cut in to say, "No! I want to see this world through your eyes, Lucius!"

"I agree," McGill chimed in. "You're doing a great job, Mr. Hunt. But I do know one thing you'll probably be glad to hear. Your description of this area is on the mark, but many parts of Philadelphia have tree-lined streets. More than in other big cities - we take pride in it."

Lucius heard that pride in her voice. "I'd love to see more of your city," he told her.

"Did you ever hear of it before? Do you know what its name means?"

He thought for a moment, then said, "I think I heard the name when I was a child...but that's all I remember. I'm sorry. What does it mean?"

He couldn't see McGill's face, but he knew she was smiling as she said, "City of Brotherly Love."


	14. Chapter 14

What McGill called a "safehouse" was a three-story, red brick building; it was indeed on a tree-lined street. Entering the house, the group met two just-arrived representatives of the Philadelphia Department of Human Services. "Social workers," McGill explained. "Here to make sure the FBI doesn't mistreat you!"

Aileen Roche was a plump, pretty young woman wearing a blue blouse, a longish brown skirt, and startlingly large hoop earrings. Will Samuels was a tall, powerfully built man with kinky, graying hair, and skin much darker than that of Kevin's boss. Remembering the picture-books of his childhood, Lucius decided Samuels was a member of the race called "black." After they'd exchanged a few words, he needed no book to tell him the man was extremely likable.

"Dinner has to be our top priority now," McGill said firmly. "But" - this was addressed to Lucius and Ivy - "would you two be more comfortable if you washed up and changed into fresh clothes? We can find some in the closets here. What they'll look like doesn't matter, when you'll just be having dinner with friends - oh, but we won't ask you to wear red!" She bit her lip. "In fact, I'll change out of this red blouse. I wouldn't have worn it if I knew you had a religious objection to the color."

Lucius and Ivy both burst out, "Don't change it!" Then Lucius relaxed and let Ivy do the talking. She explained that they didn't want to influence anyone else's choice of clothing; they wouldn't be offended by red, though she herself wasn't ready to wear it. "And we'd love a chance to clean up and get out of these clothes. I'd gladly wear a sack to dinner!"

A grinning Lucius said he agreed, on all points but one: he _would_ be willing to wear red, though he wouldn't go out of his way to seek it.

In the upshot, they were so exhausted - and so hungry - that the pre-dinner "cleaning up" consisted of little more than washing their hands and faces. With backs chastely turned to each other, Lucius changed into an ill-fitting black sweater and pants, Ivy into a knee-length flowered smock. She'd chosen it upon learning its flowers included violets.

Lucius was delighted with the meatless dinner, at which the main course was pasta. It was served by a pleasant man and woman McGill introduced as members of the five-person staff of the safehouse. McGill and the two social workers ate with the young couple; they never made them feel awkward, or expressed any unhappiness at being deprived of meat. _Sooner or later_ , Lucius realized, _I'll have to watch people eat it. But I'm glad I don't have to make that adjustment tonight._

After the meal, Aileen Roche asked to speak to Ivy alone, in another room. Ivy looked frightened, and Lucius protested, "There's no need for that! We don't want to be separated."

"Please," Roche urged, "it won't take long! I won't hurt you, Ms. Walker, won't even touch you if you don't want me to. You know I'm a woman. I'm just a few years older than you are. And I'll be in serious trouble with my bosses if we don't have this talk."

Ivy gave in. "All right," she said nervously. She used her cane as an aid as she made her way into the next room, _not_ letting this new acquaintance touch her.

Lucius sat tensely on the edge of his chair. He couldn't imagine what the woman wanted; his insides were in knots. But when he glanced at McGill, he thought she was trying to suppress a smile.

Suddenly, peals of girlish laughter came from the next room. There were several more bursts of giggles. Then the young women returned, pink-faced and beaming; Roche's arm was around Ivy's shoulders.

Ivy made her way back to the chair next to Lucius's, and slipped her hand into his. "What Miz Roche wanted," she explained, "was to ask me in private whether I was with you, engaged to you, against my will. She thought either you or my parents might have forced me into it. If so, the City of Philadelphia was prepared to rescue me. But she was quite relieved when I told her _I_ proposed to _you!_ "

Will Samuels managed to keep his laugh from becoming a guffaw; McGill's wound up as a snort.

Ivy continued imperturbably, "I assured her that you were also free to reject any proposal you didn't want - that you did in fact reject my sister's!"

The city dwellers erupted in laughter again, but it was the warm laughter of friends. Lucius, seeing affectionate smiles on all sides, was too happy to be embarrassed.

Wiping damp eyes, McGill said, "I knew what Ms. Roche was going to ask. I'd seen enough to be sure the two of you are in love. But I couldn't just tell her that - she had to find out for herself."

Then she continued more seriously, "There's another matter I have to bring up. Normally, I wouldn't discuss an FBI investigation in front of City social workers. But this is a special case. They're going to stick around, and" - with a nod to Roche and Samuels - "I know they're both good people. So I guess I can bend the rules.

"By tomorrow, Mr. Hunt, we'll know something about that skull you found. And we'll have authorization to go into the Walker Preserve. I'd like to introduce you to modern life slowly, but...would you be willing to get a good night's sleep tonight and go to the Preserve with us tomorrow, to help our people find the skeletons?"

He didn't need to think about it. "Of course."

"I want to go too," said Ivy. "I realize there's nothing I can do to help, but I won't cause any problems. And I want to stay with Lucius."

McGill nodded. "That's fine." She saw the social workers about to speak up, and told them, "You're welcome to come along. I don't want any turf wars here.

"Now," she told the young couple, "we'd better get you settled in for the night. There will always be staff in the house. But tonight, at least, the three of us will stay over as well, to help you feel secure.

"I'm not sure how, ah, intimate a relationship engaged couples have in your culture. Would you like a shared room, or separate ones?"

Unfortunately, Lucius said "Separate" as Ivy was saying "Shared."

Aileen Roche giggled.

Ivy pleaded, "Please, Lucius, share a room with me! I've never slept alone in a bedroom in my life. I've always been with one or more of my sisters."

McGill said tactfully, "I could room with you tonight. Or Ms. Roche, or both of us -"

"No! I want Lucius!"

"It's all right," said Lucius. He felt his face burning. "Of course I'll sleep with you, Ivy." **_Sleep_** _with you. No more than that!_

McGill took a deep breath and said, "I hate to start this up again, but...two beds or one?"

.

.

A half hour later she was about to leave them alone in the room, with its adjoining bath and its _one_ huge bed. (Once again, Ivy had gotten her way.) Lucius tried not to look at the bed, not to think about it. And he was too tired - or too distracted by thoughts of sex - to concern himself just then with the room's strangest features, odd-looking pieces of furniture called a "computer" and a "TV." _Hard enough to cope with lights that come on with the flick of a switch, and water that's apt to run scalding hot._

McGill hesitated in the doorway. "I know you said you don't want to try that TV tonight, Mr. Hunt. But just in case you change your mind...I don't know what you might hear, so there's something I should tell you."

He frowned. "Yes?"

"When visitors come to a city, they usually stay in places called hotels. Not in houses like this. Remember my saying it's a 'safehouse,' where the FBI usually boards trial witnesses?"

"Yes, I remember."

"The reason for that is that people sometimes want to _kill_ those witnesses. I want to make sure you understand that we _don't_ imagine anyone will want to kill _you!_ We're just keeping you here to protect your privacy."

Lucius felt a chill at the talk of killing. _City of Brotherly Love?_ He was standing with his arm around Ivy, and she went rigid.

He was tempted to ask, "Why is there a need to protect our privacy?" But he had a hunch the answer would be a long one...and he wouldn't like it. So what he actually said was, "All right. We can discuss it in the morning."

.

.

They'd decided to take baths rather than risk experimenting with the shower. Lucius refused to look at Ivy unclothed. He prepared the bath for her, made sure the water was not too hot or its level too high, guided her into the bathroom - still in a robe - and helped her familiarize herself with the tub. But then he walked out and left her alone.

Twenty minutes later, as he stood near the bed with his back to the bathroom door, he heard her voice from the doorway. "Lucius Hunt!"

He knew, without looking, that she was nude. As he was.

"Lucius Hunt! You know, do you not, that only _you_ are being prudish?"

"Please, Ivy," he said quietly, "don't do this to me. I love you too much. I'm not a prude. But I _will not_ do something that there's even a slight chance _you may regret later_."

She gave a soft gasp.

After a long pause, she spoke again - her voice muffled by bedclothes. "I'm sorry, Lucius. It's all right. I'm in bed now, with a nightgown on."

He stumbled to the bathroom and took a long, hot soak.

When he finally crawled into bed beside her, she was asleep.

At least he thought she was.


	15. Chapter 15

"Rise an' shine, folks! Yes, _you_ , guy! C'mon, get your ass outta that bed!"

Lucius's eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright. "Wh- _what?_ " For a moment he didn't remember where he was. Someone in the bed with him let out a quickly muffled shriek; he realized with a shock that the "someone" was Ivy.

 _Is this real, or am I dreaming?_ He couldn't imagine one of his dreams having content like this.

The abrasive male voice continued, "Up an' at 'em! You think I don't know how many of you bozos use the six o'clock news as your wake-up call? Now you wanna burrow back under the bedclothes. You won't get any sympathy from me. I've been up since four!"

"Wh-who's there?" Ivy quavered. "Lucius, who is it?"

Realizing where they were, he told her, "There's no one in the room with us, Ivy. I'm not sure where that voice is coming from." Having assured her that he was the only person near her, he took her hand; she sat up and huddled against him.

"Apologies to those of you who were already awake," the voice said casually. It wasn't coming from the direction of either the computer or the TV...

"It's the _clock!_ " Lucius blurted out, staring at the odd-looking timepiece on the nightstand. It was bad enough that it showed the time in lighted - _red_ \- digits reading, at the moment, 6:01. Now it was _talking_ as well?

"How can a voice come from a clock?" Ivy sounded as if she thought he'd lost his mind.

"Okay, on to the weather." As the speaker delivered the day's forecast - a good one - for the Philadelphia area, Lucius cautiously touched the clock and decided it wasn't dangerous. The electrical cord attached to it was long enough that he was able to pass it to Ivy, letting her handle it and feel the vibration in addition to hearing the sound.

"And now for the traffic situation. No tie-ups at this early hour, but there is one detour drivers should be aware of..." By now Lucius and Ivy understood that this was a factual report, presumably being heard all over town, and accepted as routine by Philadelphians. Incomprehensible though it was, they hung on every word.

"Ready for the world news, folks? It's pretty bad." The unseen man told his listeners that "the battle" was "still raging" in one place; "two more suicide bombers" had "blown themselves up" in another, claiming a total of 50 lives; and a "cabinet minister" had been assassinated in a third. The place names meant nothing to Lucius; he could only hope they were far from Philadelphia.

"Enough of that! Now for local news." The speaker went on to describe a grisly "gangland" murder.

But it was his second local story that so stunned Ivy that she dropped the clock into the tangle of sheets.

"No new details about that cult inside Walker Wildlife Preserve. As reported yesterday, a young couple escaped from the commune - or whatever it is. They'd apparently been brainwashed into believing they were living in the 19th century. And the young woman is blind, which raises questions as to whether she's been physically abused."

"He's talking about us," Ivy whispered in horror. Her voice rose as she continued. "I didn't understand every word, but he has it all wrong! Telling people we had to 'escape,' implying I'm blind because someone injured me - Lucius, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know." Lucius was shaking. "But we'll have to do something. He's making our parents sound like monsters!" _They aren't monsters. And yet I can't say truthfully that I'm sure Mr. Walker wouldn't have held us against our will if he knew we wanted to leave..._ "We'll have to discuss this with Agent McGill."

The voice from the clock went on to discuss other subjects. By now it was an irritating distraction, and Ivy asked, "Do you know how to silence it?"

"No - wait a minute. Yes, I do," he realized. "I don't know why it started. But Agent McGill told me that if we start any device and can't stop it, a sure way is to follow the cord to where it's connected to the wall, and pull it out." He proceeded to do just that. "Hmm. That also made the clock go dark."

"What time was it?" Ivy asked.

"About quarter past six."

"Losing the clock doesn't matter," she said reasonably. "Agent McGill said she'd wake us at seven, remember?"

"Oh, yes. You're right." But he knew neither of them would go back to sleep.

.

.

By 7:30 they were having breakfast - with the group, by their own choice. The meal included cereal, waffles, and eggs, plus orange juice and coffee, both of which the villagers were tasting for the first time. The only beverages available at home were milk, buttermilk, herbal tea, and - in season - apple juice and hard cider, made from an apple variety that never turned red.

A rueful McGill explained that they'd been awakened by a "clock radio." "They're often used as alarm clocks," she told them, "with the radio set to come on at a certain time. The housekeeper who dusted the room yesterday must have accidentally pulled out the stem that sets the alarm."

"I'm glad we heard what we did," Lucius said. "If other people are interested in our village, we want to know what they're being told. How can we correct the errors?"

"The FBI is having a news conference later today. We'll tell the reporters what you've said the village is like -"

"Can we talk to them?" That was Ivy.

McGill hesitated; the two social workers at the table were frowning. "At some point," she said, "you certainly can, if you want to. But we'd prefer that you not do it now - not till you have a clearer understanding of what you'll be getting yourselves into. Right now we're hoping we won't have to reveal your names, or let reporters see what you look like."

Puzzled, Lucius asked, "Why?"

McGill glanced at the watch she wore on her wrist. "Let's see - there should be news on TV at this hour. We'll take a look. Remember my telling you what the refrigerator is for, Lucius?"

 _The magic icebox?_

"It's for preserving food at cold temperatures," he recited. "But I think you said 'TV' has something to do with" - he struggled to remember the phrase she'd used - "with 'visual images.' What's the connection?"

"There's a TV built into the refrigerator door," McGill said. "It's a way people can watch TV in their kitchens without having a separate appliance take up space on a table or counter."

He gulped. "Oh. That's...surprising."

The agent fumbled through the clutter on the table till she found another of her world's ubiquitous hand-held devices. She aimed this one at the refrigerator and clicked it. A door panel that had previously looked like an empty picture frame came to moving, colorful - if two-dimensional - life. Lucius gasped.

"Are you familiar with photographs?" she asked quickly.

"Yes. I've seen them in books. And our village has homemade cameras. But I've never seen pictures that move, or are in color!"

"We've had them for a long time," McGill told him. "The important thing is that you understand that photographs show things that are, or once were, real.

"Looking at a newscast, you'll see a person who's reading the news to us at this moment, and actual events filmed earlier. The film will be real, but it will have been edited, so it won't necessarily give you the whole story. You have to use judgment in evaluating what you see." She gave a wry smile. "You'll find entertainment TV even more confusing. The pictures will be real, but they may show a fictional play, or a 'reality' that viewers understand is staged.

"In any case, what we have here is a newscast." She clicked the hand-held device again, and suddenly they could hear what the woman on the screen was saying. Her voice was as clear as McGill's, lip movements and sound perfectly synchronized.

"Now! Listen, everyone!" McGill said sharply. "She's just getting to it."

The woman on TV said, "The National Guard is barring curiosity-seekers from the Preserve. Here's the latest film." To Lucius's horror, the film - shot in very poor light - showed khaki-clad, armed men and women lined up along the wall. Based on pictures he'd seen in books, he guessed their weapons were rifles. There were at least a hundred of the so-called "curiosity-seekers." As the cameras rolled, a dozen or so made a dash for the wall; its defenders beat them off with their rifle butts. One man was apparently clubbed into unconsciousness.

As Lucius whispered frantically to Ivy, relaying what he was seeing, the news reader said, "Here's film from yesterday, showing the two young people who fled the village." He stared at the screen, transfixed. The day before, he'd never suspected they were being photographed; now he was seeing pictures that seemed to have been taken at startlingly close range. ("Telescopic lens," McGill muttered.) But as he watched the unfolding scene, he realized his need of a shave and the disheveled state of Ivy's hair had obscured their faces. He quickly passed that information on to her, too.

Muting the sound again, McGill said soberly, "I've checked all the places photos might have appeared. No one has clearer shots than those. If they did, they would have used them." Earnestly, she continued, "If we let the public know who you are and what you look like, you'll be mobbed wherever you go. We'd like you to at least have time to adjust to our culture before you're exposed to that."

Lucius nodded; he saw her point. But now he had another concern. "What about those people trying to get into the forest, to reach our village? The 'National Guard' can't protect it forever, can they?"

"They can stay for a long time if they have to," McGill told him. "News stories come and go. Interest in this one will eventually die down."

But she didn't meet his eyes.

.

.

While they were still at the table, they heard a peculiar chirping sound. McGill was unfazed; she reached into her pocket and produced what Lucius now recognized as a cell phone. Flipping it open, she said brusquely, "McGill."

The caller did most of the talking, with McGill murmuring acknowledgment. At last she said, "Thanks for getting it done so fast, Tim," and signed off.

Turning to her companions, she said, "That was the information I've been waiting for, on the skull." To Samuels and Roche, she added, "It's what we expected."

Lucius asked anxiously, "What did you learn from it?"

"Something significant," she told him. "But it's open to more than one interpretation, since we aren't sure yet whether this skull is connected with the other skeletons.

"I don't know what you've been taught about different peoples. Have you heard of Native Americans? American Indians?"

Lucius and Ivy both nodded. "We live in North America," Ivy said slowly, as if reciting a remembered lesson. "Our ancestors came from a continent called Europe. The Indians were already living here. But North America is very large, and they were few in number, so there was plenty of room for all.

"On the first Thanksgiving, white settlers and Indians gave thanks to God together because the settlers' crops had thrived."

Lucius knit his brow. "But the two groups weren't always friends. They fought, uh, on the frontier." He'd never understood exactly what or where the "frontier" was. "That was part of the violence we were told exists everywhere, except in the village our elders founded to get away from it."

"All right," McGill said. "You know enough to understand what I mean when I say the skull was that of an Indian. Experts can determine that quickly, because the teeth are distinctive.

"Indian remains are found fairly often - though usually when people have reason to be digging. This skull may turn out to be quite old, and have nothing to do with the other skeletal remains. Those must be modern, or the clothing fragments wouldn't have survived."

Lucius shuddered. "After I picked up the skull," he told her, "I was so shocked that I went straight back to where Ivy was waiting. I didn't look around - and I'm not sure I ever returned to that exact site. So there could have been other bones nearby. I just don't know."

"Our investigators will find out," McGill assured him. "Today we'll have you guide us to the hot spots you're sure of. But over the next few weeks, our people will comb the forest."

Will Samuels cleared his throat. "We've heard how blighted that forest is. I hope you'll be investigating that, too?"

McGill gave a grim nod. "Definitely."

At that moment they heard voices from the direction of the front door. "Expecting company?" Aileen Roche asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am," McGill replied. "Didn't think to tell you. Don't worry - there are guards on duty. Discreet, but vigilant. They'll check the guy's ID and show him in." She alerted the cook. "Lynn, we'll probably need more coffee!"

A minute later the new arrival strolled into the kitchen, displaying an ID badge that resembled McGill's. He took it straight to her, presumably having been given a description of their hostess. "Julius Decker, out of Minneapolis," he said with a smile. "Call me Joe. And is that another kind of 'joe' I smell?"

.

.

After Special Agent Decker's good-humored request to be called Joe, the group discovered all of them actually preferred to be called by their first names or nicknames. McGill and the social workers had thought the young villagers might be offended by informality...and vice versa.

With that matter happily settled, they had more coffee with Decker. He explained that he'd arrived from Minneapolis (a place name that still meant nothing to Lucius) late the previous night. "Any verdict on the skull?" he asked McGill.

"Yes," she told him. "It is Native American. Or...Indian? If I understand correctly that you are one, what term do you prefer?"

Lucius was startled. _This man is an Indian?_ Decker's complexion was swarthy, but not so dark that he'd found it particularly striking. His near shoulder-length hair was, however, very dark and very straight. Nothing about his attire provided a clue to his ancestry. _I've only seen pictures of Indians wearing buckskin, moccasins, and feathered headdresses. But that was how they dressed in the 19th century. And this **isn't** the 19th century!_

Decker was saying, "Most of us use 'Indian' these days. It's only our kin in Canada who resent that word. They insist on being called Natives."

The conversation turned quickly to their plan for the day. "Ivy, Lucius," McGill said, "just for today, are you willing to wear modern clothes? So you'll be less conspicuous?"

They both said immediately, "Yes." But Ivy, looking worried, continued, "Will there still be crowds around what you call the 'Preserve'? If we have to walk by them, I may not be able to hide the fact that I'm blind."

"That won't be a problem," McGill assured her. "There are several gates, and one of them's large enough to admit cars. That's how we'll go in, making no secret of the fact that we're FBI. You'll only be seen while we're outside the gate, through a car window. You and Lucius will both be taken for FBI personnel."

Lucius hated to offer an objection, but he felt he had to. "If we go in that way, we won't be near the spot where Ivy and I came out of the forest, and I won't be able to backtrack to the sites where I found the bones."

"No problem there, either," the agent explained. "We know the coordinates - the exact location - of the spot where you left the forest. And we have something called a Global Positioning System that will guide us to it once we're inside. Entering at a distance from it will cost us some time, but that's all."

Ivy said quietly, "You've thought of everything. Police here must be highly competent."

Only Lucius understood what she meant. _The opposite of what we'd been led to expect._

.

.

The drive to the Preserve (or Covington Wood, as Lucius still thought of it), with McGill at the wheel of the first of four FBI vehicles, took much longer than the previous day's helicopter flight. He and Ivy had plenty of time to worry about what lay ahead. But Decker made frequent calls on his cell phone, and assured them the crowd was now smaller and calmer. "How are you doing, Ivy?" the agent asked at one point. "Are you uncomfortable in those blue jeans?"

Lucius wasn't surprised by Ivy's saying enthusiastically, "No, I love them!" He found himself wondering, _What will she do when we go home?_ _Will she insist on wearing pants there, too, for the rest of her life?_

They reached their destination to find dozens of civilians clustered near the gate, photographing the Guardsmen and peppering them with questions. The soldiers responded with shrugs, insisting, "We don't know any more than you do."

"There are more of them here than anywhere else," Decker said with a sigh. "Just because of the gate. But that can't be helped - we need to use it."

The crowd spotted the convoy of FBI cars and made a beeline for the one in the lead, all shouting questions at once. Lucius was disturbed by one that he heard clearly: "Are you guys ATF? Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms?"

He flashed back to Trooper Calhoun's having asked McGill if she was "ATF." She'd said she was. _It stands for "Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms"? What does any of that have to do with our village?_

Joe Decker stuck his head out the car window and yelled, "I'm Special Agent Julius Decker. And no, I'm not ATF!"

"What part of the FBI _are_ you?" came several voices. But if Decker answered, Lucius didn't catch what he said.

He forgot that a moment later when the crowd picked up on one question and all of them began yelling it: "Where are the people who came out of the woods?"

This time it was McGill who spoke for the FBI. "They're at an undisclosed location!"

For some reason, everyone laughed.

.

.

The gate was unlocked for them by a scowling middle-aged man in a uniform similar to Kevin's. Once inside, they left the cars and struck out on foot. Decker led the way, carrying the portable GPS equipment. Everyone expressed shock at the appearance of their surroundings. FBI technicians took photographs and collected vegetation samples as they walked. It took the group an hour to reach the spot where Lucius and Ivy had left the forest; but they'd gone straight to it, with no time wasted.

To his relief, Lucius found the three sites with skeletons as easily as he'd expected. Then he could only look on, marveling at the professionalism with which specialists collected the remains.

And remembering...

Ivy squeezed his hand. "Are you thinking what I am?" she whispered. "We're walking distance from home! So near and yet so far."

"Yes." He felt a wave of homesickness. "So much has happened that I find it hard to believe we've only been away for two nights."

"I...miss my parents. And Kitty, and Peggy...the whole family."

"I miss my mother, too, and all our friends."

After a long silence he said, "We could leave these people and go home, you know. They said we're free to do that at any time."

"I know." Then she took a deep breath, and her slim body straightened. "But we made our choice. We wanted answers about the forest and the skeletons. If we go home now others will find those answers, and we may never learn them."

"I think we'll learn them in any case." He closed his eyes and heard Stacey McGill saying, _We will have to investigate the Preserve, and at some point, go into the village ourselves._ "We've set something in motion that we can't stop, Ivy," he said quietly. "After this investigation, our home will never be the same."

She shivered. "You're right," she acknowledged. "I'd been forgetting that. Perhaps I didn't want to think about it.

"But when I do...the truth is, we have a responsibility. We brought this on. Now it's our duty to do as Stacey asked. To stay in the outside world and learn about it, so we'll be able to prepare the others...for whatever comes." _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hazards of writing a story that has to be set in the - ahem - "far future"! This one takes place in 2005. When I was writing it in 2004, ads really were featuring TVs built into refrigerator doors, and I assumed they'd be in many kitchens a year later. Bad call!
> 
> And after all this time, I'm not sure why reference to an "undisclosed location" was supposed to be funny. I think it had something to do with the Vice President.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning found Lucius so distressed that he wished they _had_ gone back to the village.

"I don't understand, Lucius," Will Samuels said kindly. "Don't worry - we won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. Legally, we can't. But you've told us that children and young adults aren't mistreated in your community. I would've thought you'd welcome a physical exam that would prove that. Are you afraid of the x-rays I described? I can assure you they're safe -"

"No, no." Lucius continued to pace the floor, avoiding the older man's eyes. "Can't you just take my word that I've never had any broken bones?"

Samuels was shaking his head in puzzlement. "We thought that if anyone had a problem with this, it'd be Ivy. Because she's female, and on top of that, she might feel nervous at not being able to see what's going on. But she has no reservations at all! And yet she seems to understand yours..." He wouldn't drop the subject. "Is it a cultural thing? Are men in your society more modest than women?"

"No." Lucius collapsed into a chair, with a shuddering sigh.

Samuels evidently didn't believe him. "If you don't want to take your clothes off in front of a woman other than your future wife, we can have only male medical professionals examine you."

"It's not that!" Lucius burst out. Then, groaning, he gave up. "All right," he said quietly. "I know that if I don't tell you, you'll imagine something worse. The truth is, I have scars on my body that I didn't want anyone to see. I was afraid they'd give you the wrong impression of our village."

Samuels sank into another chair. "So that's it. And Ivy knows?"

"Yes, of course."

"What sort of scars?" Samuels prodded gently.

"From two stab wounds that nearly killed me a few months ago. That was why Ivy came through the woods the first time, to get medicine."

"Of course," Samuels murmured. "She would only have taken a risk like that for someone she loved."

"But violence is _not_ the norm in our village!" Lucius felt tears flood his eyes. "This was the first time such a thing ever happened."

And then he found himself telling Samuels the whole story. He began by explaining that his jealous attacker had been deranged. But then he had to tell the social worker what had later happened to Noah. Before he was through, he'd shared the full tale of the "forest creature" hoax - which he and Ivy had meant to keep to themselves, because they were embarrassed at having been taken in.

When he finished, the black man seemed at a loss for words. "Amazing," he said at last. Slowly, he continued, "Of course you believed it, when you'd heard the story all your lives! There's no shame in that. Ivy was incredibly brave, to want to go through the woods even before she knew the truth - and then, to keep going when the men deserted her."

"Yes, I know." Lucius finally managed a smile. "I count myself the luckiest man on earth, to be loved by such a woman." Then he got to his feet and stretched. "And if she's not afraid of your doctors and x-rays, I'm sure I can face them, too."

.

.

The medical examinations confirmed that neither Lucius nor Ivy had ever been physically abused. Lucius was glad he'd mentioned Noah. He discussed him with several doctors, describing his symptoms, and learned a hunch of his had probably been correct.

More disturbing was a subject raised by one of the physicians. "I don't doubt that the doctor you have in your village really is one. But what do your elders mean to do when he passes on? He can't teach everything he learned in medical school, and later, to some apprentice chosen from a population of 100." It was one of many problems the young couple were being forced to recognize.

But they were pleased by a followup report on the radio news. "That cult story seems to have been an exaggeration. Police sources say all that happened was that an engaged couple decided to leave their isolated village - which _isn't_ really in a wildlife preserve. Its people have an Amish-type lifestyle, and use a calendar of their own devising. The police remind us that Jews and Muslims have their own calendars too. These young people were free to leave. They weren't malnourished, hadn't been mistreated. And the rumor about skeletons? They'd gotten excited about finding a skull that turned out to be Indian. So it could be centuries old."

McGill smirked as she listened to that. "No lies," she said. "We just made some deliberately misleading statements. Your village isn't in a wildlife preserve - but only because the 'Walker Preserve' really isn't one, and never was. Jews and Muslims have their own calendars, but they're familiar with the standard one; we let the media assume you were, too. And we used a throwaway line about that one skull to make them dismiss what they'd heard about skeletons." Then her smile faded. "Down the road, of course, the truth has to come out. There will be some sensational news..."


	17. Chapter 17

But in the days that followed, the story died down, and Lucius and Ivy remained blessedly anonymous. They divided their time between learning about the outside world and enlightening their hosts about their own.

Lucius was introduced to the dubious delights of TV. The first program he settled down to watch with Will Samuels was a Philadelphia Phillies game. After he'd absorbed the shock of seeing so much _red_ , he cut through Samuels' painstaking explanation of the rules of baseball to ask for more basic information. "You say these men are playing a game. We play games in our village, too. But why is that crowd so excited about it? And why are people in their homes expected to be interested?"

"Uh..." Samuels seemed stumped for a moment, but quickly rallied. "Because baseball's a simple enough game, in its basics, to be understood and played by kids, but talented adults can take it to a higher level. These athletes earn huge sums of money because the public is willing to pay for it as entertainment."

"The people in that crowd? They pay to see the game?"

"They sure do. And the people who control the TV channel we're watching paid a lot for the right to show it."

Lucius frowned. "Why? How do they benefit?"

"Wait a sec," Samuels told him. "Okay... _now_. Watch and listen to the things they'll air during this break."

Lucius watched dutifully as a half-dozen short scenes were acted out. Their intent, it seemed, was to induce the viewer to buy beer, fried chicken, automobile tires, allergy medication, jeans, and something whose purpose eluded him. "What was that last one?"

Samuels was chuckling. "It's a drug men can take to, ah, help them perform sexually. If they're having problems."

"Oh!" Lucius knew he was blushing.

He couldn't imagine himself having "problems" of that sort after he married Ivy. At present, he waged a constant struggle to _avoid_ becoming aroused.

"The makers of all these products pay for the right to promote them during broadcasts," Samuels explained good-naturedly. "TV execs - that is, the people in charge - are willing to pay to air the game because they hope to make a profit by selling these commercial slots. And the guys with products to sell are willing to pay for air time because _they_ hope to make a profit when viewers buy their products."

"Oh." Lucius thought that over for a few seconds, then asked, "Would the viewers never hear of these products if they weren't mentioned during this game?"

Samuels almost choked. "It's not like that," he said when he recovered. "They're advertised everywhere. It's hard to get through a day without hearing of them."

"So no one really knows whether these specific - what was it you called them, 'commercial slots'? - are selling products or not?"

Samuels gave a bemused shake of his head. "When you put it that way, I guess they don't." Then a cheer from the crowd alerted him that the game had resumed, and he leapt to his feet to applaud a Phillies home run.

.

.

Lucius and Ivy, dressed in casual modern clothes, were taken on a tour of Philadelphia by McGill and the social workers. But they knew virtually nothing of the U.S. history that enthralled their guides. Lucius found himself politely admiring the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and sites associated with someone named Benjamin Franklin, when he was in fact more interested in the new, tall buildings, the maze of heavily trafficked roads, and - above all - the incredibly varied people.

He was taken aback, however, by Fairmount and Pennypack Parks. "These 'parks' are inside the city?" he asked McGill. "Parts of them look like what I always thought a forest would be. More so than Covington Wood!"

"I know," the FBI agent said grimly. "Pennypack is also more like a real wildlife preserve."

.

.

Back in the safehouse, they discussed their village with the social workers for hours on end. They discovered its young people had been taught some concepts - such as evolution - that were unknown or not widely accepted in the era they'd thought they lived in. They just hadn't been told the origin and historical background of those ideas.

"You've said the village has books," Aileen Roche mused aloud. "Tell me, are there pages missing?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes. In some cases it looks as if whole sections have been torn out. The elders told us these were the only books they could bring with them when they left the towns. They never explained their condition."

Samuels asked, "Do some have single pages torn out in the very front?"

"Yes! Does that mean something?"

Both social workers were nodding now. "Publication dates," Samuels explained. "The books - some, maybe most of them - were printed after 1874. Your elders tore out the pages with the publication dates, and anything else that didn't jibe with the world-view they wanted you to have."

While Lucius was pondering that, Roche said thoughtfully, "We've been wondering about some of the other things you have in the village. For example, the shoes Ivy was wearing when we first saw her - high-button shoes that looked to be straight out of the 19th century.

"They looked authentic. But in the real 19th century, people in rural areas owned things like that because they weren't isolated. There was plenty of travel and trade. I can't believe an isolated community with a population of 100 could have manufactured those shoes! It wouldn't have the raw materials, even if someone possessed the skill."

"You're right," Ivy told her. "We have storage sheds full of non-perishable supplies the elders brought with them. Including hundreds of pairs of shoes, in all sizes." She gave a wry smile. "And leather and patterns for making more...but our cobbler isn't very good."

"There are all sorts of supplies," Lucius chimed in. "Everything from bolts of cloth to manufactured items like oil lamps. But we know those stores can't be replenished, so we repair and reuse everything we can. Clothes are patched till they're threadbare. And then, the parts of adults' clothes that are salvageable are used to make children's clothes."

"Of course." Samuels' eyes had lit up. "Your having all those supplies makes sense, because money was no problem for the elders - Edward Walker had inherited a fortune. He probably bought the period shoes and so forth from movie costume makers. If they cost more than the 1981 versions would have, what did he care? He had money to burn."

"But as Ivy said," Roche reminded him, "he could only stockpile non-perishable goods. That's why lack of medicines was sure to become a problem."

The biggest gaps in the young villagers' education, it turned out, were in the areas of geography and history. Ivy remembered - vaguely - having been taught that Covington Wood was located in a region called Pennsylvania. (Lucius observed that he "must have missed class that day.") They had both heard of the United States of America; but what Edward Walker told students about it was downbeat. "All he said was that the United States was almost torn apart by civil war a few years before our village was settled," Lucius recalled. "The war left the country in such a state that we couldn't be sure it still existed."

Samuels rolled his eyes. " 'A few years'?" He sighed. "It was 'a few years' before the time Walker wanted you to believe the village was settled, 1874. But he knew the Civil War was almost a century and a half ago!"

"There's something else I don't understand - well, one of many things," Lucius admitted, with a rueful smile. "The elders founded the village in 1981. Why did they start their new calendar with 1874? If they wanted to change the year, why didn't they turn the clock back exactly a century? What was special about 1874?"

"I think I can guess." Samuels brought the nearest computer to life and batted in a succession of commands. "Yep, got it. There's a system called the Universal Calendar, that can tell us what dates fell, or will fall, on what days of the week in any given year. There's a complicated cycle. 1874 is a year that was in sync with 1981. So if the elders found authentic 1874 calendars, they could hang them on their walls and go on without missing a beat."

.

.

McGill was more diffident in a request she made for information. "Lucius, Ivy - would you be willing to give me the names of all the elders?"

Fiddling uncomfortably with a button on her blazer, she explained. "The FBI would like to research the elders' backgrounds - find out whether any of them are, um, fugitives from the law. If you feel your telling me would be a betrayal of friends, I won't press you." But when they hesitated, she added, "I think that if anyone was a fugitive, he would have fled, to protect himself, as soon as he realized you'd left. There's been plenty of time for people to get away."

The young couple made it clear that they'd merely needed time to confer. In fact, neither of them had any objection to giving her the names.

"My mother joined the village founders because my father had been murdered," Lucius told her. "I can't believe she'd lie about that. And Ivy's parents conceived the idea because Ivy's grandfather had been murdered. None of them would have associated with criminals!"

McGill nodded. "My gut feeling is that you're right. I know it's true about Ivy's grandfather. James Walker was a famous man, and everyone in Pennsylvania knows how he died."

They gave her the list of names, and she promised to tell them what she learned.

.

.

Two days later she was back, with a smile on her face and a computer Zip disk in her hand.

"Like we expected, guys - no fugitives! All the elders were victims of crime, not criminals. They dropped out of sight in 1981. Some faked having left the country, others just disappeared. But no one deserted a family." She waved the computer disk. "And, Lucius - I've copied some information that I think you'll be glad to have."

They settled themselves at the computer - Lucius with his arm around Ivy, making sure to include her, even though she couldn't see.

As McGill slipped the disk into the Zip drive, she asked Lucius, "Do you know your mother's maiden name?"

"Yes, Marshall. Her name was Alice Marshall."

"Good. Then you won't have any doubt about the accuracy of these records."

As he watched the screen, she brought up, one after the other, a series of images. The marriage license issued to Alice Marshall and Michael Hunt in New York City, in 1978. A newspaper account of their wedding, complete with photo of a young and beautiful Alice in her bridal gown. The 1980 birth certificate of their son, Lucius.

By then tears were streaming down Lucius's cheeks...and Ivy's, based on his mumbled description of what he was seeing.

"Do you want me to stop here?" McGill asked softly. "There's something else, that will be painful. Maybe we should leave it for another time."

Lucius guessed what she meant. "No, go ahead," he told her. "I want to look at it now."

So she showed him the newspaper report of his father's murder.

Michael Hunt had died at age 22. Killed for his grocery money, four months to the day after the birth of his son.

Strangely, Lucius's tears had stopped flowing. "Is he buried in this...New York City?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"I want to go there." He was grateful for Ivy's sudden squeeze of his hand.

"All right."

But before they discussed that, McGill had another question. "Ivy, do you know _your_ mother's maiden name?"

Caught by surprise, Ivy needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Then she said, "Daly. My mother was Tabitha Daly."

"This _is_ strange! Lucius, you've known the Walkers all your life. Do you think you'd recognize young photos of Ivy's parents?"

He nodded. "Yes. I could see at a glance that it was my mother in her wedding photo, so I'm sure I'd recognize Mr. and Mrs. Walker too."

"Okay. Take a look at this." McGill opened another file and brought up still another wedding photo, this one showing both bride and groom.

Lucius looked at it and said immediately, "Yes, those are Ivy's parents. Can I read the article aloud for her?"

McGill was shaking her head. "I'm puzzled. It says the bride's name was _Carolyn_ Daly."

Two voices blurted out, _"What?"_

"I've only been able to find records of Edward Walker's marriage to a Carolyn Daly," McGill explained. "I thought the 'Tabitha' Ivy had mentioned was a second wife, till she said the family name was Daly. Could this possibly be a sister of the woman you know?"

Lucius studied the photo more closely. "I don't think so. It would have to be a very strong resemblance. Ivy and her sister Kitty are only a year apart in age, and they don't look this much alike."

"Did Carolyn change her name?" McGill wondered aloud. "Why? If she thought it was too modern, she could simply have changed it to Caroline. Not that it would really matter -"

"Hey, I couldn't help overhearing." They turned to see Will Samuels in the doorway. "There's something I think I remember. Mind if I get on the Web and check it out?"

Lucius and McGill readily gave up their seats in front of the computer, and watched Samuels' fingers fly over the keys. "If I'm right," he said as he typed, "this would tie in with the Walkers - at least Mrs. Walker - being the sort who'd want an old-style village to have an appropriate calendar, even though it wouldn't make a particle of difference to the next generation. Ah, yes!" He pointed to the information he'd brought up on the screen. "The significance of the name 'Tabitha': she was a woman said to have been restored to life by St. Peter. So the name can symbolize a new beginning."

McGill was nodding. "Makes perfect sense. The elders could have raised children in 19th-century surroundings without changing the calendar at all. Their offspring would have no way of knowing what the year 2005 was supposed to be like. But these people wanted to make a fresh start, to half-convince _themselves_ it was real. Carolyn's new name was a perfect symbol."

Joe Decker had come into the room unnoticed. Now he said quietly, "And her being the only one to take a new name may tell us who was really in charge."

.

.

It was McGill who took Lucius and Ivy to New York, though they knew that wasn't part of her job. If anything, she was neglecting her job for them.

They visited the hospital, and the actual maternity ward, where Lucius had been born. Their next stop was the apartment building where his family had lived when he was an infant. Then they went on to the church where his parents had been married, and from which Michael Hunt had been buried. Finally, all three knelt in prayer at Michael's grave.

Try as he might, Lucius found it hard to think of a man who'd died at 22 as his father, in the same sense in which he thought of Alice as his mother. Here he was most conscious of a life cut tragically short, unknown potential gone to waste. _But there are other ways potential can be wasted..._

When they got to their feet, McGill began quietly taking photographs, as she had of all the sites. _So I'll have something to take back to the village with me_ , Lucius realized. _But...why do I find it so hard, now, to face the prospect of going back there and having only pictures of the outside world?_

They shared a restaurant meal after leaving the cemetery. When their mood had lightened, McGill asked if the young couple would like to spend a few more days in New York. "It's a magnificent city. There are any number of places you could visit -"

"No, I don't think so," Lucius said. "Not on - that is, no."

Ivy caught his verbal slip. "You almost said 'not on this trip,' didn't you?" To his relief, she smiled. "I don't want this to be our last one, either."

"That's good." McGill was smiling too. But then she sobered. "New York is your birthplace, Lucius. It has to hold special meaning for you. And I can't let you leave without making one more visit. It will require some explanation..."

After she'd given them that explanation - as best she, or anyone, could - she took them to the site of the former World Trade Center.

When they tore themselves away, hours later, an ashen-faced Lucius said, "I want to learn more about what's going on in the world."

Slipping her hand into his, Ivy said, "We _need_ to learn more."


	18. Chapter 18

**  
_September 2005._   
**

Lucius and Ivy walked out of the woods, hand in hand, at the spot where they'd entered so many months before. They wore the clothes in which they'd left home. But those clothes were freshly laundered, and they'd changed into them only a half hour ago, at the camp where they'd left a dozen FBI agents.

They made their way slowly across a sunlit meadow, toward the cluster of buildings that made up the heart of the village. They knew most of its residents were in the chapel. They'd chosen a Sunday morning for their return because it was the best time to find most of the community gathered in one place.

But they didn't go directly there. Their first stop was the cemetery, where they dropped to their knees at the grave of 7-year-old Daniel Nicholson.

On the first anniversary of his burial.

"Danny's death started everything," Ivy said softly. "Life can be so cruel! If he hadn't died, you'd be dead."

Startled, Lucius asked, "What makes you say that?"

"It was Danny's death that prompted you to ask about going to the towns for medicine, remember?" She shuddered. "If you hadn't done that, made an issue of it, I don't think it would even have occurred to _me_ to ask to go, after Noah stabbed you."

Lucius had never thought of that. Now, as he prayed for Danny, he put an arm around Ivy and held her tight.

They moved on to a newer grave - that of Noah Percy - and offered equally heartfelt prayers for him.

 _Promising young lives wasted_ , Lucius thought bitterly, _just like Michael Hunt's._

 _But here, we can hope, there will be no more._

.

.

Five minutes later they approached the chapel. The door had been left open; they stood to one side of it for a few seconds, so they could listen to the preaching elder without being seen.

Lucius felt a lump in his throat as he realized who it was. _Mother..._

Alice was wrapping up her sermon. With a tremor in her voice, she concluded, "And so, as always, I beg you to continue praying for the safe return of Ivy Walker and my son Lucius."

The response came from scores of voices. "Yes!" "We will!" "Amen!"

Lucius couldn't keep silent for another moment. Moving as one - as they often did - he and Ivy stepped through the doorway, and he said simply, "We're here, Mother."

"But I am not Ivy Walker," Ivy announced. "I've been Ivy _Hunt_ for four months now."

The congregation spun around to look at them. There was a chorus of gasps, cries of "Praise the Lord!"

And then there were full-fledged shrieks, as the villagers realized what they were seeing.

Lucius knew they weren't focusing on the hand Ivy was proudly holding up to display her wedding ring.

They were all looking at her _eyeglasses_.

As churchgoers scrambled to their feet and began crowding into the center aisle for a better look, Lucius saw only Ivy's parents. They were shrinking back, faces white with shock...and what he recognized as shame.

But while they retreated, the first to make a move toward Ivy were her sisters. Peggy ran into her arms with a squeal of delight; Kitty and the others were a few steps behind. Then they were all laughing and embracing, and Ivy was telling one after another, "You're so beautiful! I never knew!"

Briefly ignored, Lucius took his eyes off them and found himself gazing into the tear-stained face of his mother. An instant later she was in his arms, crying on his shoulder.

 _Oh yes, Mother. I love you, and I always will. No matter what._

She looked up at him and said quietly, "Ivy's had cataract surgery?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Lucius. I mean I'm happy for you and Ivy, I'm thrilled for you, but I'm sorry none of us ever told her how easily it could be done."

"Ivy doesn't blame _you_ , Mother." _But she's human enough that it will take her a while to forgive her parents. Even for this...not to mention everything else they've done._

Alice had caught his emphasis, and she swallowed hard. Then she said, "I have something to tell you. I know there are m-more important things to be discussed, but I want you to hear this right away, from me. Ivy isn't the only one who has a new name. Last month I became Alice...Nicholson."

"You _what?_ " He blurted that out so loudly that Ivy and all her sisters turned to look at them.

And then, suddenly, August Nicholson was there, saying with a tentative smile, "I hope you can accept this, Lucius."

"Accept it?" He gave a giddy laugh. _Not one of the elders has a completely clear conscience, but he and Mother are the best of them_. "I love it! But I never dreamed -"

"Until recently, neither did we," Alice admitted. "But it is real love, just like yours."

"Then I'm delighted."

 _Difficult times are coming. I'm glad these two good people will have each other to cling to._

 _And someday, when the dust settles, I may even be able to think of August Nicholson as a father._


	19. Chapter 19

A half hour later the group had moved to the larger meeting hall, at Alice's suggestion, and the few absent villagers had been summoned to join them. Lucius had wondered whether Edward and Tabitha Walker would seize the opportunity to slip away. To their credit, they did not.

For the first time, he was genuinely pleased to see splashes of violet in most of the villagers' clothing. Despite his five-month absence, these people still regarded him as a "saint." He knew they wouldn't shout him down, refuse to believe the startling things he and Ivy had to tell them.

Thankfully, none of them imagined that the restoration of Ivy's sight was a "miracle" of other than the medical kind. Her needing to wear glasses told them nothing supernatural was involved. And the change in her might help them accept that the outside world held as many happy surprises as horrors.

The young couple rose to face the crowd, prompting a chorus of cheers from all but the dour elders. Tears stung Lucius's eyes as he raised his hands to silence them.

"Thank you! We love you all, as we always have. But now we have to tell you what we've learned." _How can I do this? I've never talked much, never wanted to._

"Try to stay calm," he told his audience, hoping he could heed his own advice. "Don't be afraid. But...prepare yourselves for news that will change all our lives, forever." Over the excited buzz that followed, he said, "Ivy and I have agreed that I'll tell you this part of the story."

Agreed, yes. But he still felt as if she was deserting him when she squeezed his hand, then sat in the front row with Alice and August and left him on his own.

He waited for silence. Then he took a deep breath. "First, there are no dangerous creatures in Covington Wood. The elders have always known that."

.

.

As he'd expected, the uproar threatened to keep him from ever getting beyond that subject. "Settle down! I'll explain. Briefly, for now, because there's much more you need to know."

He gave a condensed explanation of the "forest creature" hoax, while the elders squirmed in their seats. Unfortunately, it required sharing the truth about Noah Percy's death; he was glad to see his mother put a comforting arm around Ivy.

"Outside the forest," he continued, "Ivy and I discovered that wasn't the only way in which we've been deceived.

"All our elders had lost loved ones to violent crime. They wanted to retreat from the world, to what they viewed as the 'simplicity' of an earlier era.

"So they did. They didn't just put a forest between them and everyone else. They turned back the clock...by more than a century. The year we're living in isn't 1898. It's 2005!"

Stunned silence.

And then the younger members of the audience were on their feet, howling in outrage - not doubting him, but ready to assault the now-terrified elders.

"Sit down, everyone!" Lucius commanded. "Hear me out."

As they grudgingly complied, he urged them, "Try to show compassion for your parents. They'd been badly hurt. I don't approve of what they did, but they were trying to assure what they saw as a better life for their children.

"And in any case, we don't have time for recriminations now. There's much more that Ivy and I need to tell you."

He went on to describe the wonders of the modern world: cities with millions of people, advances in medicine, motorized travel, air travel, near-instantaneous communication in its many forms. He had a selection of photographs to be passed around. "Before our village was settled," he told them, "humans had traveled to the moon!"

When the ruckus over that died down and he had their attention again, he began pointing out the negatives. "Crime and violence still exist. Besides that, there are problems caused simply by the vast numbers of people. There are so many motor vehicles on the roads that accidents claim an appalling number of lives. Big-city hospitals are so overburdened that medical errors result in a significant number of deaths. And there are people living in desperate poverty - some here in the United States, many more in other parts of the world."

He gave his now-sober audience a capsule account of the wars of the 20th century, including the horror of the Holocaust and the development and use of the atom bomb. Then he continued with a history update that shocked even the elders.

"Four years ago this country experienced a new and frightening type of attack. A small group of people from other parts of the world, who hated the United States government's policies, seized control of several airplanes - with passengers aboard - and deliberately crashed them into buildings. Two enormously tall buildings collapsed, and close to 3,000 people were killed."

By now his voice was shaking. But the cries of revulsion gave him time to bring it under control. When he could be heard again, he addressed another painful subject.

"And two years ago, the United States invaded a much smaller country. Over a thousand American soldiers have been killed, and over a _hundred_ thousand of the other country's people." Raising a hand in acknowledgment of the shocked gasps, he continued, "Some Americans believe this was a necessary war; others don't. I don't understand the issues well enough to have an opinion...yet.

"But for good or ill, we live in the United States. In the event of war or natural disaster, we'd have to rely on its government for protection. Personally, I'd rather know what's going on than not know."

There were murmurs of agreement.

"And now," Lucius told his audience, "I want to make clear two points that are of key importance to _us_.

"First, despite all the violence in the outside world, the great majority of people in countries as advanced as ours get through life without experiencing any of it, and die of natural causes at an advanced age."

He allowed a minute for that to sink in.

Then he said, "Second...in the 24-year history of our village, there have been eleven deaths. I've explained how Noah died. Let's leave discussion of that for later, and consider the ten natural deaths.

"Births have far exceeded deaths, so we've thought our community was thriving. But the truth is that every one of those deaths was premature and preventable. Every one of those people could still be alive!

"It's not that Dr. Ashline isn't a good doctor. He is. They died because he didn't have the medicines or the surgical capabilities that would have been available in the outside world. And none of those things are new! He understood perfectly well what was needed."

A white-faced Ashline got to his feet, looked around, and said brokenly, "That's true." He sank into his seat again and buried his face in his hands.

"We haven't even been as well provided for as Americans in the real 19th century," Lucius went on, "because their communities weren't isolated.

"In most respects, the outside world isn't better or worse than the one the elders created here. It's just different. But this difference is crucial. The elders had the right to deprive themselves of good medical care - to choose 'peaceful' lives over long ones. They had no right to make that choice for their children and grandchildren!"

As dozens of young villagers voiced their assent, he looked at his mother and August. His eyes misted. _I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you._

Then he told the crowd, "If there had been no other compelling reason for Ivy and me to reveal the truth, this would have sufficed."

He wondered how many had noted the _if_.


	20. Chapter 20

After they'd taken time out for an overdue midday meal, the villagers reassembled and Lucius said, "Now Ivy has something to tell you." He held her for a long moment; then they separated, and he sat between Alice and August.

The younger members of the crowd, still abuzz over what they'd already heard, calmed down enough to give her a hearty welcome. Even most of the elders were smiling.

"I know what you're expecting," Ivy began. "That I'm going to talk about the restoration of my sight.

"But I'm not. I had surgery, a common operation Dr. Ashline and my parents had always known was possible." She paused to let that sink in. "I'm grateful for the doctors and everyone else who helped me, and above all, for the man who loved me even when I was blind. There's nothing more to say.

"I need to talk to you now about something else. I believe - I hope - parts of this story will come as a shock even to most of the elders. It's I and not Lucius who should explain this, because it's the responsibility of my family." She gave her parents a long, hard look. "Terrible things have been done with our wealth, in our name.

"I should explain to the young people here that the Walker family was extremely wealthy. Papa and Mama conceived the idea of founding this village, and assured the other elders the details could be left to them.

"There's no way that in late 20th-century Pennsylvania, land as desirable as this would have been uninhabited. It wasn't.

"You've all learned something about American Indians. In modern America many tribes live, by choice, on lands called reservations. That helps them preserve their language and culture.

"The land that became our village, and the forest around it, made up a reservation. A tribe had lived here for hundreds of years. In modern times it was important to them to have this land of their own, but they weren't isolated. There were roads through the forest, and the Indians enjoyed many of the modern conveniences our parents spurned."

Her frown deepened. "The Walker family had sought to claim this land, forest and all, for a long time. A king of England - who had no right to it himself! - had supposedly included it in a grant to a man named Penn, and Penn had promised it to a Walker ancestor in payment of a debt. The claim wasn't well documented, and the courts rejected it. All my grandfather's money couldn't change that.

"My parents did get the land. They couldn't have done it without the money; but in addition to that, they had to lie about the use they had in mind for it. They told the court they planned to create a wildlife preserve - a wild area where animals and birds would be safe, not threatened by hunters or even by human residents. The Walkers couldn't have gotten away with living on a luxury estate here, coming and going in a normal way. But an isolated village would go undetected."

Edward Walker was on his feet. "Ivy, you're making it sound as if I used my friends' need as an excuse to go after land I'd wanted all along. It wasn't like that. I was a professor, I'd never cared about it."

"So it was pure coincidence, Papa, that the land you acquired for the village was the land your family had coveted for years?"

"No, of course not," he admitted. "But -"

Robert Percy said accusingly, "We never knew you had a prior interest in the land!"

"I just knew about it because of the family history!" Walker protested. "Tabitha and I arranged for the land, then lived among you as equals. And you may not have known about the 'wildlife preserve' lie, but you always knew this had been an Indian reservation." Turning back to Ivy, he told her, "The Indians were well compensated, and moved voluntarily to another location that was as good or better."

She shook her head. "It's not that simple, Papa." Addressing the group again, she continued, "Papa and Mama set up an organization called the Walker Foundation to administer the family fortune. It was responsible for relocating the Indians - an unpleasant task they didn't want to be involved with - and later, for running the fake wildlife preserve. Its executives were very well paid; but they knew they could lose their jobs at any time if my parents were dissatisfied. I'm guessing they went to great lengths to keep them from hearing bad news.

"Most of the Indians were relocated against their will. They refused compensation, because accepting it would have implied acceptance of the loss of their land. The tribe kept fighting in the courts for years."

"I-I didn't know that," Walker said weakly. He sat down abruptly, as if his legs had given out.

"And the location to which they were moved was not 'as good or better.' They were forced to share an overcrowded reservation with another tribe, in another state, and there was friction between the two groups. Many left the reservation, and didn't adjust well. By now they've all but lost their tribal identity."

Her father mumbled, "We had no idea..."

August Nicholson turned to look at him. "None?" He shook his head. "You had doubts. You've acted for months as if you were afraid of something coming out, something the other elders didn't know. And it had to be more than the lie you'd told about a wildlife preserve."

Ivy said quietly, "The story gets worse. An agency of the United States government has been investigating. For those of you who've heard of the FBI" - meaning, of course, the elders - "it has an Indian Country unit, which never lost interest in the situation here.

"They learned recently that most of the Indians were relocated, but some were determined not to leave, not to be torn away from their ancestral lands. They took refuge in Covington Wood, hoping to survive by hunting and gathering." A shocked murmur ran through her audience. "I'm not talking about a great many people, but they did outnumber the original settlers of our village. Their numbers may have been close to the hundred we have now.

"The Indians who left never realized their reservation wasn't being turned into a wildlife preserve. But by the time the Foundation realized some were still living in the woods, they'd seen the village. The Foundation wasn't willing to let them stay, or let the elders even become aware of them, lest the inconvenience cost Foundation bosses their jobs. But driving them out, if it could have been done, wasn't a good solution either. They knew too much."

Alice said suddenly, "Oh my God."

Ivy paused. "Mrs. Hunt - I mean, Mrs. Nicholson?"

"Th-the first year we were here," Alice stammered. "W-we used to hear gunshots, deep in the forest! Edward said...he said the people who worked for him were just getting rid of large animals like bears, that might pose a threat to the village!"

Amid gasps of horror from the crowd, Walker leapt to his feet and yelled, "That was all they were doing!"

Ivy said firmly, "No, it wasn't. I'm sorry, Papa, but whether you knew it or not, your men weren't shooting at bears. They were shooting at other men - and women and children. Not letting them escape from the forest, no matter in what direction they tried to flee."

"Ivy, how can you claim to know all this?" Tabitha was in tears. "You've heard wild stories out there! Are you repeating them to punish us for the lie about the forest creatures? Or to punish us for -"

"No! I'm not 'repeating wild stories,' Mama, not for any reason! The top executives of the Foundation are under arrest, and they've admitted everything."

Tabitha collapsed, moaning.

Ivy took a deep breath to steady herself. "The Indians were at home in the forest. Those who tried to escape couldn't do it, but most of them managed to hide and avoid being shot.

"So the Foundation decided on another way of killing them. They poisoned the vegetation. All the animals fled or died." She swallowed hard, then continued grimly, "And all the humans died, with no exceptions. Probably either from eating plants that had become poisonous, or from eating the flesh of poisoned animals. But if anyone realized there was no food safe to eat, they had the choice of starving."

The silence that followed was broken by scattered sobs - and by several villagers' making a pell-mell dash for the door. Once outside, they could be heard retching.

At last August Nicholson said, "Years later, we realized something had gone wrong in that forest. When children were old enough that we wanted to frighten them with our 'forest creature' nonsense, we began going a little ways in, let them hear howls coming from beyond the border." He shook his head in disgust. "Edward admitted the plants must have been poisoned, but he still claimed his people had been clearing the forest of dangerous animals. Said the poisoning had been allowed to go too far."

Walker had been comforting his wife, but now he let go of her and struggled to his feet again. "I'm sorry." He paused as if realizing the inadequacy of those words. "I didn't know humans were being killed - but I should have. I believed what I wanted to believe, didn't ask questions. When people I'd hired were using my money to relocate hundreds of Indians, and they had a motive for not telling me if they encountered problems, I should have _insisted_ on being kept informed."

August said bitterly, "You shouldn't have been relocating those Indians in the first place! Not when they didn't want to go." He sighed. "We were all at fault," he admitted. "We took Edward's word that he'd offered the Indians so much money that they'd jumped at it. We should have checked the facts ourselves."

"How did the truth come out, Ivy?" Alice asked. "Why now, after all these years?"

"Lucius found skeletons," Ivy explained. She was fighting to keep a tremor out of her voice. "We were so concerned that we felt we had to mention it to a friend in the outside world. And he believed the right thing to do was to call the police."

Edward Walker looked up at her, with tears streaming down his face. "It _was_ the right thing to do, Ivy. Don't ever doubt that."

A puzzled August asked, "Why hadn't the Foundation disposed of those remains years ago? They couldn't be sure of keeping everyone out of the forest, forever."

Lucius spoke up for the first time. "They thought they had recovered them all. But when they were searching, there was still so much vegetation that they missed some. They never bothered to check again, and by now there were so few shrubs that the skeletons could be seen easily."

After a brief silence, Walker said quietly and with dignity, "The men who ran the Foundation are under arrest. So I suppose the FBI will be coming here next? To arrest Tabitha and me?" Tabitha let out a muffled shriek.

Ivy nodded. "I'm afraid so, Papa. At the very least, you'll be questioned. And you may be found to bear some legal responsibility. As you said, you should have kept track of what the people you hired were doing."

Ada Clark, known as one of the most compassionate elders, was the next to speak. "I assume we'll have to leave this land. But I think we should decide on that now, voluntarily, and commit ourselves to do everything we can to help the surviving Indians resettle here."

Expressions of assent and good will toward the Indians came from all sides. But Ivy gave a sad shake of her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Clark. The Indians cultivated crops, just as we have. And it won't be possible for anyone to farm here for many years to come. The environmental damage caused by the poison hasn't affected the village yet, but it will. The loss of so many nearby trees is a disaster in itself."

A stunned Alice Nicholson whispered, "So we not only stole their land, we ruined it as well?"

Lucius said quietly, "The village experiment ruined more here than the land..."


	21. Chapter 21

Ivy's eyes met his, and he wasn't surprised when she said, "I think Lucius should tell you what he means." The subject was still too painful for her.

He was on his feet at once, saying, "Yes, I agree." They shared a quick embrace, and he once again addressed the crowd.

"Think back. Remember those skinned animals last fall, that some of us assumed had been killed by the forest creatures?" Heads nodded, and young faces looked mystified. "When the killings stopped, we believed it was because winter was at hand. But they didn't resume in the spring...they were like nothing the 'forest creatures' had ever done before...and we now know _there are no forest creatures_.

"The elders probably figured this out long ago, but I'll explain for the rest of you. The 'creature' killing those animals was Noah."

Shocked as the young people had been by the earlier revelations, they hadn't gone numb; they were instantly caught up in this one. As for Noah's parents, they groaned, but clearly weren't surprised.

"He lived near the forest," Lucius explained, "and he'd been slipping in and out of it frequently, almost all his life. He knew there were no forest creatures. He realized what the elders were doing, and he perceived it as a silly game. So he decided he'd play too."

Edward Walker's head shot up, and he exclaimed, "Oh God!" The other elders were reacting in much the same way.

That surprised Lucius. "You didn't know?"

Walker shook his head vehemently, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "I thought at first that a renegade elder was killing the animals. Later, I realized it must have been Noah. But it didn't occur to me that at that early date, he already knew there were no forest creatures. I never guessed his antics were a response to our antics - an escalation! It makes perfect sense."

Lucius wondered, fleetingly, whether _he_ would have thought of it if Ivy hadn't questioned whether Noah was trying to play with her in the woods.

"It's unclear why he began 'playing' at that particular time," he pointed out. "One possibility is that he'd just discovered what was going on. But there's another -" His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat. "He'd been playing too roughly with the children, hitting them. Ivy made him stop. So maybe...maybe he needed another outlet for all that energy. And...another form of violence as a substitute for hitting."

He stole a look at Ivy, and was relieved to see her dry-eyed and composed. _Bearing up for my sake?_

He continued, "His attacking me wasn't part of any 'game.' But I don't think he would have done it if he hadn't already become accustomed to carrying a knife and making lethal use of it."

Walker's mouth twisted into a mirthless smile. "So _our_ little 'game' was the indirect cause of the violence we so wanted to avoid?"

"I'm afraid so."

After they'd had a minute to absorb that, Lucius went on. "Noah's having seen through the 'forest creature' hoax proves something I always suspected. He wasn't unintelligent, not by any means. He may have been very intelligent. But he couldn't function normally because he was constantly excited and agitated."

That idea seemed new to everyone except Dr. Ashline; he gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Elders...remember my saying I thought medicine could help him? That was one thing I had in mind when I asked to be allowed to visit the towns. Later, when I described his symptoms to doctors in Philadelphia, they said I was probably right."

Ashline flinched.

Vivian Percy blurted out, "You mean - if we'd allowed you to go for medicine a year ago, my son could have been helped, and everything that happened later could have been avoided?" Her voice rose as she continued, "He wouldn't have stabbed you - he'd still be alive?"

Lucius hated inflicting new grief, but he had to nod. "Yes. Probably. But I would, of course, have seen enough of the outside world to realize we weren't living in 1897."

"To hell with that!" Vivian broke down, sobbing, as her husband held her tight.

Lucius took a deep, shuddering breath. _I have to get through this. We need to get the whole truth out in the open, once and for all_.

He resumed his address to the group. "As I said, I'd believed all along that Noah could be helped. And I spoke to doctors about him within the first few days I was in Philadelphia. My understanding then was merely that he had a treatable condition, like Ivy's cataracts. But in the months that followed, I learned more about it.

"Specialists went into Covington Wood and studied its plants. Most of the native shrubs were wiped out long ago. But there's one kind that's hardy enough to still be thriving - a bush that has berries throughout the summer and fall. _Red_ berries," he noted with bitter irony.

Ignoring the gasps at his use of the forbidden word, he told his audience, "There are huge patches of this variety. The fact that it's thriving doesn't mean its berries are safe to eat. Normally, they'd merely be non-nutritious. But these shrubs are growing in tainted soil. So the berries are poisonous, in a non-lethal way.

"Noah was in and out of that forest all his life. And children are attracted by bright colors..."

Everyone saw where he'd led them. Most of the villagers cursed, moaned, or choked back sobs.

It was Edward Walker who burst into inane, cackling laughter.

....................................................................................................................................................................................

 _I understand now that no color is good or evil in itself._

 _But red was an appropriate color for the poison that brought violence into our closed community. It was a community born of paranoia, theft, and deception, and the extreme measures taken to protect it sowed the seeds of its destruction._

 _Red was the color a blind Ivy saw in a tragically warped Noah._

 _Red is associated with bloodshed and violence. Yet it can also symbolize courage. The blood of heroes who give their lives to save others...the blood seen in childbirth, calling to mind the ever-wondrous cycle of human existence._

 _Yellow or gold, we were taught, was the safe color. Its various shades are associated with the sun...the beautiful and useful sunflower...fields of grain...the glorious leaves of autumn. A wholesome color, a light in the darkness._

 _The color a blind Ivy saw in her father._

 _But the color gold is also associated with the mineral of the same name, and with the robes of kings. Wealth, power, arrogance._

 _The color a blind Ivy saw in her father._

 _Violet is the color of mysticism. Associated with a humble flower...and with the blood of saints and martyrs, inexplicably having the sweet scent of the flower._

 _The color a blind Ivy saw in me._

 _But the color violet is akin to purple. Purple is another hue associated with royalty, with power and arrogance._

 _The color a blind Ivy saw in me._

 _As we adjust to life outside the village, our young people and even most of the elders cling to Ivy and me, wanting to exalt us as they never did the now-imprisoned Tabitha and Edward. Burdened with the care of Ivy's little sisters, forced to postpone having a child of our own while we see Mother and August adopting, we need all our strength to resist taking advantage of those fawning followers._

 _But thus far - with the help of friends like Kevin, Stacey, Joe, Aileen and Will - we seem to be doing okay._

 _We're tackling life head-on, urging the other former villagers to do the same. One lesson we've learned is that the "safe" color was never really safe._

 _We understand at last that the "safe" color, Edward Walker's color, can also represent cowardice._

...

.

.

The End


End file.
